


Tapes

by Lost_in_stars



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Billy Hargrove & Eleven | Jane Hopper Friendship, Billy and Steve are kind of oblivious tbh, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Gay Billy Hargrove, M/M, Slow Burn, Steve Harrington Deserves Love, also I have no clue what the eighties were like, also SOFT BILLY!!!, and Steve is a dumbass but we love him, but I love them., do walkmans have headphones?, idk if they do irl but for simplicity sake they do here, im dumb.., sorry - Freeform, the internet could only tell me so much, um
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-09-02 03:54:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 22
Words: 55,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20269591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lost_in_stars/pseuds/Lost_in_stars
Summary: Max threw her arms up in annoyance and Billy stood up, tossing his headphones to the ground carelessly. He crossed his arms, glaring down at Max, but she did the exact same thing. Billy seemed to give in, shouting “Fine!” So loudly that even Steve could hear. Max grinned, jumping into the blue Camaro while Billy got into his own seat, visibly angry. Steve watched as the car sped off so fast it left skid marks on the concrete car park.“He left his bag and Walkman,” Steve murmured, mostly to himself. Dustin shrugged and the two boys in the back remarked about how they didn't care, but Steve did. He got out of the car, walking over to pick up the backpack without looking at it’s contents and the cassette player. He’d give them back to Billy on Monday, he decided as he dumped them at Dustin’s feet.<><><><>Billy leaves a bag in the school parking lot. Steve takes it before anybody else can, and discovers a recording of Billy's mother speaking. He also finds out a few secrets about Billy that Billy never wanted anybody to know about.





	1. Chapter 1

Steve Harrington flicked his lighter open and stared at the fire silently as he waited for the kids to get out of AV club. They were late, and he was quite sure they knew it too, but did they make any effort to come out? No. Steve loved the kids to death, but they got on his nerves sometimes. Well, most of the time.

Plus, it wasn't exactly ideal to be sitting right across the parking lot from Billy Hargrove, the guy who had beaten him up a month or two ago and also seemed to have a strange obsession with pointedly annoying Steve at any chance he got.

Steve wasn't sure why the blonde wasn't sitting in his car, which would be much more comfortable. Instead, Billy was sitting on the curb outside it, a backpack beside him and a portable cassette player on his lap. He had gone through four cigarettes already, and was nearly on his fifth. The guy seemed stressed, but it wasn't exactly like Steve was going to go over and ask if he was okay. Billy could throw a good punch, and sometimes Steve still winced when he looked him in the eyes.

Eventually, the kids sauntered out of the school, all of them chatting excitedly. Dustin, Mike, and Lucas headed over to Steve’s car, Dustin waving enthusiastically at Steve. Steve gave a little finger wave back, watching as Will went to his brother Jonathan’s car while Max went to Billy’s.

“Can we get McDonald's on the way home?” Dustin asked when he flopped down in Steve’s passenger seat.

“Mm hmm,” Steve agreed distractedly, his eyes on Billy. The blonde and redhead seemed to be arguing. Max threw her arms up in annoyance and Billy stood up, tossing his headphones to the ground carelessly. He crossed his arms, glaring down at Max, but she did the exact same thing. Billy seemed to give in, shouting “_Fine_!” So loudly that even Steve could hear. Max grinned, jumping into the blue Camaro while Billy got into his own seat, visibly angry. Steve watched as the car sped off so fast it left skid marks on the concrete car park.

“He left his bag and Walkman,” Steve murmured, mostly to himself. Dustin shrugged and the two boys in the back remarked about how they didn't care, but Steve did. He got out of the car, walking over to pick up the backpack without looking at it’s contents and the cassette player. He’d give them back to Billy on Monday, he decided as he dumped them at Dustin’s feet.

“Wow, this is a whole bunch of tapes,” Dustin said, shoving his head into the bag as Steve pulled to a stop outside the boy’s house. He had already dropped the other two off with milkshakes from McDonald’s and a promise to pick them up on Monday for school.

“Don’t go through Hargrove’s shit, dickhead,” Steve replied, somewhat affectionately. “Now, get out of my car.”

“I’ll see you on Monday, Steve!” Dustin shouted, and Steve chuckled, showing the kid’s hat down in front of his eyes.

“Out, Dustin. I’ll seeya later.”

“Bye!”

“Bye,” Steve waited until Dustin had closed his door before driving off with the intention of watching a movie and eating popcorn for dinner. That wasn't what happened though. Without thinking he brought Billy’s green backpack inside, along with the cassette player and headphones. He put the stuff down on the coffee table and tried to ignore it. It was probably just a bunch of heavy metal, nothing Steve was really interested in.

His curiosity got the better of him and he picked up the cassette player to see what Billy had been listening to. Instead of Billy’s messy scrawl with a band name like _Metallica _or _Motley Crue _there was instead curly handwriting with hearts decorated around it. _My baby, Billy_, it read, and Steve raised his eyebrows. Did Billy have a girlfriend or something who made him a tape? It would be a shame not to listen to it.

But a cringe worthy mixtape wasn't what Steve got.

“_Billy,” _A woman’s voice started. Steve didn't recognise it. _“I know by the time you find this I’ll be gone, but I need you to know I love you. So much. Your father and I… We were never the greatest parents to raise you, always fighting, and he’s always hitting you, but I promise I love you very much. I didn't leave because of you, baby. I left because of your father. I can only hope he doesn't turn his anger onto you too much. You have to understand that he wasn't always the… Well, monster that he is now. He was once a great man. I thought he would be a lovely father. Clearly I was wrong. Neil is one of the people in the world that it would be best for you to avoid, darling. I guess I learned that a little too late. I love you very much, and… Wow, I have to go in an hour or two. It’s strange to think how quickly this is all going to be over. You’ll be getting home from school in three hours and your father is already on his way home. I’m leaving. I can’t stay here, he hurts me too much. Don’t show this to anyone, Neil will take it away from you. Listen to this whenever you feel down. I love you so much, Billy. Goodbye,” _With a crackle, the woman who Steve was assuming was Billy’s mother stopped speaking and instead the song You Are My Sunshine began to play.

Steve let the song play through, his chest weighing down with guilt. That was clearly something very private, and Steve had intruded on it like it was nothing. It wasn't clear what Billy’s mother had done after the recording was over, but Steve got the feeling it wasn't something good.

Feeling sick, he took off the headphones and set the cassette player down on the table, covering his face with his hands.

Man, poor Billy.

Not that he was feeling sorry for him or anything.

The cassette player and backpack stayed on his table for the rest of the weekend, but when Steve woke up early Monday morning with a beating heart and a scream tearing through his throat he got the strange urge to listen to the tape again. He couldn't bring himself to do it again, it was too private, but Billy did have other tapes that were instead written in his handwriting with numbers instead of words. He found the tape marked _1 _and pressed play, putting the headphones in.

Steve felt strangely at peace as he listened to somebody clear their throat, rustling around for a second, before a kid’s voice filled his ears. Young Billy Hargrove.

“_Hey, Mum… Uh, it’s been two years since you left. I’m ten years old now! My friend Violet says I should talk to you with the last thing you gave me. She said it’s supposed to connect with you or something, but I don’t really believe in all this ghost stuff like you and her do. Well. You did. I think she thought the last thing you gave me was that notebook, but I kept this a secret like you said I should. Hm. What else has been happening? Well, Dad hit me again yesterday. There’s a hand print on my shoulder now, it hurts,” _Ten year old Billy rustled around again, sniffling sadly. _“He’s also been out seeing a lot of pretty ladies. He sometimes takes them home with him, and they’re always mean to me. I usually leave the house when that happens, and when I get back Dad is always asleep. Then I eat cereal for dinner. I know you said that’s bad but it’s the only thing in the cupboard. I guess not much is going on though… Maybe I’ll do this again. I’m not sure. Bye Mum. I really miss you,” _The recording ended with a click.

It might have been a bad decision, but Steve didn't bring the bag or cassette player with him to school that day.

<><><><>

Everyone was whispering when Steve got to school. Steve wasn't one to listen in to other people’s conversations, but when he passed a group of boys and heard Billy’s name he stopped to listen.

“Yeah, he looks like shit today, man. His eyes are red. I reckon he’s been crying.”

“That bad?”

“Did you even see him? Didn’t even do his hair. Got a black eye, too, and he looks like he just got out of bed with that bedhead and outfit of his.”

Steve wandered off to see what everyone was talking about.

As told, Billy did have a black eye. He was standing in front of his locker, wearing a pair of tracksuit pants and a black _Metallica _shirt with a pair of black sneakers. His hair wasn't that bad, but that was clearly because the blonde was currently brushing it. Steve couldn't see from where he was standing, but he was willing to bet that Billy did have red eyes and had been crying. Billy didn't even stay at school until lunch. He pulled something out of his pocket, popped it in his mouth, and headed outside to his car.

Later, Steve arrived to pick up Dustin from AV club a couple of minutes earlier than usual. Billy hadn't arrived yet, and he wasn't entirely sure if that was a good sign or not. Nevertheless he took the opportunity to ask Max what was up with him.

“Billy looked like shit today,” Steve said casually as he leaned against the wall. “What happened?”

“He freaked out yesterday, after we got home. Shouted at his Dad so he had to sleep in his car last night. Said he’d lost something,” She answered, checking her watch to see the time.

“Yeah, his sanity,” Dustin joked and the kids laughed while Steve smiled wryly.

“You’re early,” Mike said, ignoring the joke. “AV club doesn't get out for another twenty minutes. We’re only out here for a break, and because Will was feeling claustrophobic,” He smiled sadly at Will, and he blushed back.

“We can go back inside now. Sorry for making you guys come out here,” Will murmured. He was a sweet kid. Steve made sure to ruffle his hair when he passed, saying that Will could talk to him if he needed to, and Will looked a little happier after that.

Billy Hargrove arrived to pick up Max a couple minutes after AV club ended. The blonde didn't even bother getting out of his car, he only sat waiting for his step sister with his music blasting. Steve avoided his eyes. He was starting to pity the guy after hearing a little about his past. His mother had left, maybe died? His Dad knocked him around a little. He had to make his own dinners since he was ten, younger maybe.

Didn't excuse him being an asshole, but no one deserved to be abandoned by someone they loved.

Steve listened to tape number 2 when he got home, listening to ten year old Billy talk about how he learnt to skateboard yesterday with one of the bigger kids, and that he missed his mother a lot. It was strange to hear this sweet, vulnerable Billy pouring his heart out to the tapes. Made Steve feel like he had stolen the blonde’s diary or something, which he had, in a way.

There were forty-six tapes all together, and Steve was only up to tape 3. Kid Billy talked about getting a D in Math class and how his Dad had tugged on his hair until Billy begged for mercy.

Steve had dealt with monsters before, but Neil Hargrove sounded like a different kind of monster. What type of father hurts their kid for getting one bad grade? Neil, apparently.

He was sure he’d give the tapes back tomorrow, because Billy seemed to be having a breakdown without them and honestly, he felt bad for taking something that Billy was clearly attached to. He hadn't know when he had found the tapes, yes, but he still felt guilty.

Did that stop him from listening though?

No.

Now with a time limit, Steve decided to listen to the rest of the tapes before tomorrow. It was sad to listen to eleven year old Billy cry about bruises, uplifting to hear twelve year old Billy had originally liked Max, amusing to hear thirteen year old Billy complain about pimples while his voice cracked. Ah, puberty.

It was when Billy was fourteen, though, that things began to get a little more interesting. At tape 17 Billy started it by clearing his throat, stumbling over his words for a few moments before he actually began to talk.

“_Hey Mum,” _He started. _“Things have been a bit… Crazy around here. Max and Susan have properly moved in, which… Well, I guess I don’t mind it. Means there’s food on the table. I just don't like it when they play happy families. I’ve also started smoking a fair bit, you’d be really disappointed in me for that. But, what has been fucking – Sorry,_ messing_,_ _– with my head most of all is… I’ve been thinking about guys, Mum. Like… Like in the way I’m supposed to think about girls. Mamma, there’s something wrong with me. I think I’m gay.”_

Steve pressed pause and tugged his headphones off, eyes wide.

Was Billy Hargrove fucking _gay_?!

No. There was no way. Billy Hargrove was a fucking man whore, he was making out with a girl in the locker rooms last Wednesday! It was normal for teenagers to question their sexuality. Steve did. He thought he liked boys and girls at one point and though he never came to a conclusion… Well, not the point. That was just his puberty talking.

Because Billy Hargrove is straight.

Later, Steve woke up at around midnight, in the kitchen. He had apparently been sleepwalking. With a sigh, he made himself some tea, grabbed the cassette player and bag without thinking, and headed back up to his bedroom. After getting himself comfortable on the bed, Steve put the headphones on and pressed play. The tape started from where it had been left off.

“_Dad’s going to kill me if he find out, Mum. I’m so scared. He’s going to slit my throat, he told me. If he finds out I’m a fag, I’m so dead. Mamma, I miss you. Life is so unfair. I just want to be normal...” _Billy was silent for a second before he began to speak again. _“He just got back. I have to go. Mum, I love you, I miss you,” _The tape ended.

Steve put the next one in hurriedly.

“_Hi Mum. It’s been three weeks since I did this last, not exactly a very long time. I know I set myself a limit of one tape or less every two months, but I just needed to talk. I’ve been thinking about it a lot, and I really think I am gay. Girls are just so… Ugh, and I hate that about myself but I cant change. This is the way I am. Maybe I’m a bit young to be figuring this out, but I think it’s something I’ve always known, just hidden. I’m going to keep hiding it. Even though I know you can’t really hear me, it’s sort of nice to pretend. I miss you, Mum. Jeez, I’m such a fucking pussy though. Dad would seriously kill me if he knew. That’s why I’m not going to let him find out. Instead, I’m going to go find myself a girlfriend, one that won’t push for anything sexual, and pretend like I don’t want him knowing. Then, when he does know, it’ll drag him away from my… Gay scent? Is that a thing? I dunno,” _Steve smiled as he listened to fourteen year old Billy try and figure out what to name it. _“I think I’m just gonna go with trail. It’ll pull him away from the trail. He’ll be pissed, sure, but it’s better than being dead, right? I have to go, Maxine wants me to play scrabble with her and if I don’t Dad is going to be angry when he gets home. Bye, Mamma. Miss you.”_

Steve rolled over with a sigh as he took the headphones off and put them on his bedside table. So it was true, then. Billy Hargrove was actually gay.

But Steve didn't hate him for it. Instead, he was more intrigued. It did explain a lot, especially with that sense of style… Also why he acted like the girls in Hawkins weren't good enough for him, it was because they weren't boys.

He put on tape 18 and listened to Billy talk about his bruises with a heavy heart.


	2. Chapter 2

Billy was on the verge of a panic attack.

He had poured his heart out into those tapes, told them everything. If somebody found them and listened to them, he was royally fucked. His Dad would actually kill him this time around, and if he didn't, he would get beat up every day, he’d spend the rest of his life running away from people. 

Once, just once, he wanted things to go his way.

When Billy closed his bedroom door he realised in horror he had left the tapes and cassette player in Max’s school parking lot. His heart beating madly, he threw his bedroom door open and grabbed his car keys. “I have to go out!” He called, his voice shaking. “It’ll only take a minute.”

“Dinner is soon,” Neil said, stepping in front of the door. “Whatever it is, it can wait until tomorrow.”

“You don’t understand, it’s really important. I lost something. I left it at Max’s school parking lot, Dad, it was really important to me. I... I need it back. I promise, it’ll only take a minute.”

“No. I don't care. I said it can wait. Go set the table.”

Billy took a deep breath, counting to ten in his head. “Please,” He said, gritting his teeth and forcing out the words as calmly as possible. “Please can I just go and get it?”

Maxine walked past, keeping her head down. She looked glared at Billy, but he didn't do anything back, only shoved his hands in his pocket and avoided her eye. As much as he hated to admit it, the brat scared him a little bit now.

“No,” Neil hissed. “I said you will stay, so you will stay,” He pinched Billy’s chin tightly, forcing the blonde to look at his father.

“Neil is one of the people in the world that it would be best for you to avoid, darling,” His mother’s voice played in his head. He needed that tape back. He needed it. It was the only thing that kept him sane.

“Get the fuck off me!” Billy shouted, shoving Neil roughly away from him. “Don't fucking touch me!”

Neil went dangerously silent, and Billy began to breathe heavier. “Dad, I’m sorry, I--” He was cut off as his father punched him across the face, causing him to stumble and hold hold his eye, wincing in pain.

“You’re going to leave the house now, William,” Neil growled, shaking his hand as if he was the one in pain. “I expect you to be back tomorrow to pick Max up from school. You can find somewhere else to stay tonight. Is that clear?” He grabbed Billy’s shirt and twisted it tight. “Is that clear?” He repeated.

“Y-yes. Yes, sir.”

Billy knew better than to argue. Staying out in the cold was a small price to pay for getting his tapes back. He resisted the urge to slam the door, that would only make Neil angrier and he would probably actually get beaten for real. He could tell he was going to have a black eye anyway.

He clambered into his blue camaro, speeding off as fast as possible without skidding off the road. The tapes should be in the middle school parking lot, right where he accidentally left them.

Fucking Maxine. This was all her fault. If she hadn't gotten all pissy then Billy would have remembered the tapes, he would still have them, he wouldn't have a black eye, and he wouldn't be on the verge of fucking crying.

He would still have his mother’s voice.

The sun was setting by the time Billy got to the parking lot. He lit a cigarette as he got out of his car and strolled up to where he had left the tapes, expecting to see the backpack and cassette player on the curb.

Except.

They weren't there.

Uncontrollably, he felt tears welling up in his eyes as he searched the entire parking lot for the bag. After circling around three times he collapsed in front of his car, hugging his knees to his chest as he started to shake.

They were gone. His Mum, gone. His thoughts, gone.

Somebody had found them.

They were going to listen to them.

Poor Billy Hargrove, with a Mum that left. Poor, sad Billy Hargrove, with a Dad that hits him. Poor, sad, gay Billy Hargrove, who had a fucking crush on Steve Harrington and had recorded crying about it on the fucking tapes.

Well. His life was officially over.

He drove out to the middle of nowhere, sat down on the hood of his car, and screamed at the universe as loud as possible.

He didn't get much sleep that night.

<><><><>

Billy crept into his house, spotting Neil standing at his bedroom door. He instantly put his head down, hunched his shoulders, looking like a sad puppy. It was submissive and embarrassing, to force out a “Please can I change my clothes,” and have a shirt and a pair of tracksuit pants shoved into his chest. Neil pushed him towards the bathroom, commanding him to be quick so he can drive Max to school.

Though Billy was hungry, he didn't dare grab a plate and help himself to the bacon and eggs that Susan had attempted to cook. Instead, a simple apple would have to do, and he nibbled on it quietly while waiting for Max to pull on her shoes.

“You look like shit,” Max said as they headed out to his car together. He didn't even dignify that with a response, but the little brat kept talking. “Your hair’s all messy and your clothes look like something you would find in a garbage can.”

“Been digging through a lot of garbage cans?” Billy muttered, and Max rolled her eyes with a huff.

“Just saying. You look bad.”

“Yeah, I was attempting to look like you this morning,” It was a dumb response, the kind a kid would think up, but Billy was seriously tired and he just wanted to find his tapes so he could spend the rest of the day listening to his Mum’s voice.

Max glared at him and he squirmed underneath her stare as he remembered the nail bat incident. She stared at him for a second before digging through her bag and pulling out a packet of mints. Billy pulled to a stop outside her school, waiting for her to get out of his car. She shoved the packet into his hands. “Your breath stinks, asshole,” She said. “Please eat one,” With that, she slammed the car door and walked off to meet her friends.

Billy stared after her, confused. It wasn't the nicest thing to say, but still. She had given him mints. That was nice of her, though she probably just felt bad and was doing it to clear her own conscience.

He decided not to think too hard on it, instead sped off so he could get to his own school.

People were whispering behind their hands as he walked through the hallway. He looked down at his outfit with a sigh, wishing he could have chosen it himself. If he was going to feel like crap, he should at least look good, but unfortunately life wasn't like that. Neil seemed determined to humiliate him as much as possible.

There was a hairbrush and a mirror in his locker, and Billy slammed it open so he could see what he looked like. As suspected, his eyes were red and his cheeks were puffy. It looked like he had been crying, which he had been, technically, but he didn't need everyone knowing that. His hair was stuck up in all different directions, blonde curls frizzed like he had been electrocuted. His bruise was starting to throb, and he could see in the mirror that it was going a bright purple and blue. With a sigh, he started to tug the brush through his hair as fast as possible.

There were too many whispers to think. Nobody approached him, not even Tommy. More than ever, Billy wanted his tapes back. He had his mother’s one memorised, sure, but it wasn't the same.

With a scowl, Billy pulled the mints out of his pockets and tossed a few in his mouth, stomping through the hallway and to the door. His faithful camaro sat in the parking lot, looking much more fancy than the other cars, and he clambered in, turning to music up loud so he didn't think about his Mum, or his Dad, or especially Steve Harrington.

Instead, he headed to the closest cafe to order his favourite meal, chips and a strawberry milkshake.

Fuck life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, short chapter.


	3. Chapter 3

Steve stared at the ceiling as Billy’s voice played in his ears. He knew it was time for him to start getting ready for school, but he was on tape 27 and was intrigued to hear about Billy complaining about how much piercing his own ear had hurt. It was kind of cute, actually. Billy acted big and strong, but over the tapes he admitted to piercing his own ear with tears in his eyes and had actually freaked out when he saw the blood. 

When 27 was finished he got up and headed to the bathroom so he could shower. He had to pick Dustin up, but that didn't stop him from spending nearly an hour on his hair.

Billy wasn't at school that day. Steve had brought the tapes, they were sitting in his car, and had been planning to give them back. But the blonde wasn't there. He brought the tapes back home because he didn't want them sitting in his car overnight, and listened to a few more while making himself dinner.

He knew it was bad for him to be listening to the tapes. They weren't his, it was like reading Billy’s diary or something.

Steve smirked as he thought about Billy with a pink fluffy diary writing something like Dear diary, I have a crush on this guy from school.

But there was still something addicting about listening to the small, vulnerable, fifteen year old Billy. He couldn't stop listening to the tapes.

He could listen to them all, then leave them in Billy’s car and act like nothing had ever happened. It was a simple solution.

Steve didn't get any sleep that night, but that didn't mean he didn't try. He lied in bed for at least four hours, staring at the ceiling, trying to get comfortable, but it was windy outside and he was too jumpy to actually get some sleep. He ended up grabbing his nail bat and walking around his house, jumping at every noise.

The Upside-Down had really messed him up. Once, Steve had been King Steve, staying up all night at parties. Now, he was just Steve Harrington, staying up all night so he could hunt monsters. What had happened? Nancy, he supposed. She had dragged him into all of this, and then pushed him away for a different boy.

He had hunted monsters for her.

He had given up his title of King Steve for her.

He became a fucking paranoid mess for her.

But Jonathan was still better than him.

Oh, Steve Harrington? Yeah, he’s just bullshit.

With a sigh, he realised he’d been crying at the thought of Nancy. Fucking Nancy Wheeler, turning him into a vulnerable mess.

It was only four in the morning, but Steve made himself a cup of coffee and chugged it before getting into the shower to wake himself up.

The only thing that managed to actually get Steve out of the shower was the phone ringing continuously. He ran downstairs in only a towel, grabbing the phone off the hook and putting it to his ear. “Hello?” He asked, breathless.

“Steve!” Dustin shrieked so loud that Steve had to pull the phone away from his ear. “Max is stuck with Billy on the side of the road! She needs us to pick her up!”

“I already have to pick you and Lucas up,” Steve sighed, resting his forehead against the wall. “Are you sure that there’s no one else--”

“No, Steve! There’s no one! Max doesn't have anything to defend herself with, she says Billy is already getting angry! We have to protect her!”

“Cant she skate?”

“She doesn't have her skateboard.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Steve muttered, groaning. “Fine. Just let me get dressed, alright? Get a location of where they are, and tell Lucas we’ll be picking him up early.”

“Thank you Steve!” Dustin hung up and Steve sighed before walking upstairs to get dressed.

Steve forgot all about the tapes, instead running out the door hastily trying to fix his hair. Dustin was waiting outside, jumping into Steve’s car. Lucas took a little longer, but eventually ran outside and got into the backseat with rocks for his wrist rocket falling out of his pocket. “Alright,” Steve sighed. “Where are they?”

Dustin gave him directions and Steve followed them. They pulled to a stop behind Billy’s blue camaro, who’s engine was smoking. Billy had the hood up and was trying to fix the engine, while Max was leaning on the back of the car with a scowl on her face. She brightened when she saw Steve’s car, waving. She got into the backseat, greeting Lucas with a hug and ruffling Dustin’s curly brown hair.

“Let’s go!” She said, but Steve stared out at Billy, who had slammed the hood shut and was instead lighting a cigarette, clearly frustrated.

“Does Billy need a lift too?”

“He can walk,” Dustin said. “He’s an asshole anyway.”

“Language,” Steve scolded. He opened his car door and cautiously walked up to Billy. “Hey, you need a ride?” He asked. Billy only glared at him murderously, his arms crossed. “Come on, I’ll drop you off at school,” Steve jerked his head at his car. “Come on, Hargrove.”

“I’m not getting in the car with your dumb kids,” Billy replied, throwing his cigarette to the ground. “Fuck off, Harrington.”

Steve hugged his arms around himself, about to turn around and walk back to his car, but he remembered fifteen year old Billy piercing his own ear and actually smiled. Billy stared at him like he was crazy, looking Steve up and down. “What are you smirking about?”

“Nothing. Get in my car, I’ll give you a lift to school.”

Billy was silent for a second before locking his camaro and glaring at Steve again. “Fine.”

The kids scowled when Billy and Steve approached Steve’s car, all of them looking like Steve was bringing a Demodog instead of Billy Hargrove. Billy opened the passenger door, glaring at Dustin. “Get out, nerd.”

Dustin crossed his arms, glaring up at Billy. “No. I always sit here. Get in the back.”

Billy looked at Steve like he was supposed to help, but Steve only shrugged. “You heard him. Get in the back, Hargrove.”

With a grumble, Billy got into the backseat and glared at Lucas and Max.

The amount of tension in the car was unbelievable. The kids seemed to be angry because Steve had brought Billy into the car. Billy seemed to be angry because… Well, Billy was always angry, so that wasn't a change. Honestly, though, Steve didn't blame him. Billy’s life was pretty shitty. He’d be angry too if he had a Dad like that.

“You kids hungry?” Steve asked, trying to cheer everyone up. “We could stop at McDonald's and get some ice cream for breakfast, if you want.”

“Really?” Dustin perked up.

“Awesome!” Lucas grinned at Steve and Steve smiled back in the mirror. 

“Thanks, Steve! Clearly I’m the only one who has fucking manners over here,” Max nudged Lucas. Steve scolded her for her swearing again, but chuckled when the kids chorused thank yous.

“I don't like ice cream,” Billy replied. “I want a milkshake, or I’m lighting a cigarette in this car and blowing the smoke all over your fancy rich boy seats and your fancy girly hair.”

“Whatever you say, Goldilocks,” Steve scoffed, but let out a gasp when Billy pulled out a smoke and put it in his mouth. “Fine! What flavour? Fucking hell.”

“Strawberry,” Billy moved his lighter closer to his cigarette when Steve snorted. “No laughing, shithead. It tastes good. Hey, quick question, do any of you kids have asthma?”

“I do,” Dustin piped up. 

Billy smirked at Steve. “Ah. Another reason to not let me smoke in the car. Now shut the fuck up, Harrington, and buy me a fucking strawberry milkshake. Got it?” He fake smiled sweetly, the cigarette in his mouth moving when he talked.

“Okay, jeez. One strawberry milkshake.”

Billy tucked the cigarette back into the pack. Probably for later, to do some more threatening. Fucking asshole.

Steve pulled into the nearest McDonald’s Drive-Thru and leaned over to say his order. “We need three vanilla ice cream cones, and one strawberry milkshake,” He picked at his nails, bored.

“I’m sorry, but we currently cant do strawberry milkshakes. We can still do chocolate and vanilla though. Is that okay?”

“Chocolate or vanilla?” Steve asked, glancing back at Billy.

“Strawberry or nothing,” Billy replied, slouching in his seat and honestly looking miserable. “I fucking hate McDonald's!” He shouted, loud enough for the girl working the Drive-Thru to giggle awkwardly.

“I-I’m sorry, sir. Are you sure you don't want a different flavour?”

“I said strawberry, but of course you fuckers don't have that,” Billy muttered, glaring out the window. “Don’t want anything now. Fucking assholes.”

“Yeah, just the ice creams then. Sorry, he can be a brat sometimes,” Steve said to the girl. Sounding relieved, she told them to drive around.

Steve handed all the ice creams to Dustin, who secretly licked all of them before handing them back to Max and Lucas. Billy scoffed, crossing his arms. He looked like a kid who had just been told off.

Only a couple of minutes later, Steve had to stop suddenly because some asshole cut in front of them and everyone lurched forward. When Max fell back into her seat her ice cream cone splatted into Billy’s jacket. He let out a shout of disgust and tried to wipe his jacket on Steve’s seats. “You fucking bitch, Maxine!”

“It was an accident. God, Billy, don't be such a drama queen.”

“Drama queen? Drama queen, huh? Well, check this out for drama queen, shit bird,” He grabbed her ice cream and attempted to shove it into her face, but she ducked neatly underneath his arm. It was a clumsy fight, because the two of them were sitting so close together. Plus, Billy wasn't really aiming to hurt her, he clearly just wanted to put the ice cream in her face or something like that. But Lucas and Dustin started shouting at Billy to stop being such a psycho, and the entire car was so loud that Steve’s head throbbed painfully.

“SHUT IT!” He screamed, which made everyone go quiet. Now with their attention, he glared around at them all. “Billy, it was an accident, don't try to hurt Max. Max, find something to clean Billy’s jacket with. Lucas, Dustin, both of you don't need to fucking shout so loud. My ears are bleeding, seriously. If you guys start acting up again, I’m throwing all your ice creams out the bloody window and dropping you all off on the side of the road. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Steve,” They all murmured, but Billy just scoffed.

“What makes you think I’ll listen to you, Harrington? Last time I checked, I can beat your fucking face in pretty well and you don't have any ice cream to threaten to take away,” Billy fake pouted, crossing his arms.

Steve pulled the car over, stopping on the side of the road so he could yank Billy’s packet of cigarettes out of the blonde’s front pocket. Billy let out a shout of anger, trying to grab them back, but Steve waved them out of reach with a scowl. “You’re not getting these back if you keep acting like a brat. Now, sit down and shut up.”

“Give them back! That’s my last pack and I don't have any money to buy anymore!” Billy shouted, trying to grab them. Steve tucked them into his jeans pockets and shook his head.

“No, I don't want to hear it, Hargrove. Be quiet.”

Billy groaned dramatically and flopped back in his seat, pouting without realising it. He looked so angry and sulky that Steve was almost tempted to giggle.

Big bad Billy Hargrove, who loves strawberry milkshakes and pouts when things don't go his way.

It was actually quite funny.

After dropping all the kids off at their school Steve made a U-turn and headed to his own school. Billy got out instantly, tapping his foot and holding his hand out. Steve tossed him the cigarettes and the blonde caught them clumsily. He clearly hadn't been Steve to throw them.

“I’ll be back,” Steve said as he got back into his car.

“I don't fucking care,” Billy muttered back, already lighting a smoke.

<><><><>

At lunch, Steve found Billy in the cafeteria. He was ignoring what the guys at his table were joking about, instead staring out the window with a distracted look on his face.

Steve hesitantly approached them. Specifically, Billy. He put a milkshake down in front of Billy and the table went silent, staring up at Steve.

Tommy said, “The fuck you want, Steve?” But Steve only shrugged at Billy and turned to walk away.

He felt a hand on his arm and turned around. Billy was looking up at him, a soft look in his eyes that he quickly tried to hide with a scowl. “Sit down, Harrington. If you’re gonna be so generous and buy me a shake you might as well sit with me.”

Steve pursed his lips and glared at the rest of the basketball team as he nudged Billy over and sat down.

“Need a lift home?” Steve asked when the school day was over. Billy sighed, resting his forehead against the locker.

“Your kids gonna be there?”

“Lucas and Dustin are going to Will’s after school, so--”

“Legit those names mean nothing to me. Yes or no, Harrington?”

“No. They’re not gonna be there. Except for Max. Just don't want you to walk home, that’s all. Its a pretty far walk.”

Billy gnawed on his bottom lip, looking like he was considering it. He then closed his locker and leaned against it, a wolfish look in his eye. “Well, because you so much insist, King Steve. I’ll catch a ride, sure.”

“Cool,” Steve said casually. He was silent for a second before speaking again. “Look, I get that we aren't close but, like, you looked really shit on Monday. Like. What happened?”

Billy let out a huff, turning to walk away. “I’ll meet you at your fancy rich boy car, Harrington!” He called, raising his middle finger above his head to flip Steve off.

Though it was stupid, Steve smiled and shook his head before following him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know jack shit about cars, ya'll.


	4. Chapter 4

Billy got out of Steve’s car, not even giving the brunette a thank you. Max leaned in front of Steve’s window, asking if he could pick them up tomorrow if Billy’s car still wasn't fixed. Billy ignored them and instead went inside.

“Didn’t hear your car. Who’s that?” Neil was looking out the window, a beer in his hand, at Steve’s car. “That your boyfriend, boy?”

_I wish. _“No. That’s just a kid from school. Local babysitter, you know. My… Uh, my car broke down on the side of the road so Max got him to pick us up and--”

“Your car broke down?” Neil raised his eyebrows. “You fucking driving around too fast again? I suppose you need me to take it to the mechanics and get it fixed, then?”

Billy swallowed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. It needs to be fixed. I already tried and--”

“Fine,” Neil looked back out the window. “But you’re paying for it, got it?”

Billy thought about the money he was saving up to go back to California, calculated how much it would cost to get his car fixed, and cringed. “Yes sir,” He muttered, heading to his bedroom and closing his door. He flopped down on his mattress, rubbing his hands over his face as he tried to resist the urge to cry.

It was like everything was going fucking wrong this week. First his tapes, then fucking Neil getting all angry, then he went to school with red eyes like some fucking pansy, and now his fucking car had broken down and he had to pay for it! Could his week get any worse?

He felt his pocket for his pack of smokes and realised that he had left them in Steve fucking Harrington’s car.

Yeah.

Yeah, his week could get worse.

Billy hadn't had a cigarette since lunch, and for somebody that was as addicted as he was that wasn't exactly the greatest thing. Steve had already driven off and Billy didn't have any others. Usually, he would just drive down to the store but his car was broken down, and even if it wasn't, he had no money to pay for them. Though he only had to get through until tomorrow, he felt so frustrated and angry at that moment that he turned his music up as loud as possible and punched his pillow for a good few minutes.

While Billy was angrily hitting his pillow, Steve Harrington was driving home wondering why the hell he didn't tell Billy about the tapes. Maybe he should have just left them in his car, given them back to Billy, pretended that this entire thing hadn't happened.

He just… Didn't want to?

The tapes were the only thing that made Billy a human being to Steve.

He didn't want to get rid of them just yet.

Still, Steve didn't listen to anymore tapes that night. Instead, he spent his time watching movies on the TV and attempting to sleep. He didn't even get an hour, causing him to be very tired when he arrived to pick Dustin up. “Can we get coffee?” The thirteen year old asked, and Steve nodded.

“Sounds like a plan. Also, we’ll be...” He cut himself off with a yawn before continuing. “We’ll be picking up Hargrove and Max next. I think Lucas is catching a ride with Jonathan though, so you’ll have plenty of time to flirt with Max, eh?” He nudged Dustin playfully.

“Yeah,” Dustin sighed. “I don't even have a chance anymore. But I think its okay. Lucas makes her happy.”

“Mm,” Steve agreed, thinking of Nancy. “She deserves to be happy. Even if its not with… Well. With you. Anyway, coffee,” Steve pulled into the closest diner, ordering two cups of take away coffee. They sipped silently in the car. Both of them were early, so they didn't have to start driving to Max’s house for another ten minutes. Steve began to question Dustin. “So, why are you tired, kiddo?”

“Stayed up till two working on a science project,” Dustin answered with a yawn. “You?”

_Stayed up all night watching movies and parading my house with a bat. _“Just. Like. Couldn’t sleep, I guess. That coffee helping?”

“Yeah,” Dustin took a large gulp. Neither of them particularly liked coffee – In fact, Dustin hated it. But both of them were so damn tired that the three spoonfuls of sugar disguised the taste.

“Steve!” Dustin shouted suddenly, causing Steve to jump and nearly spill his hot coffee all over his lap.

“Jesus Christ, fucking what?”

“You’re smoking again?!” Dustin held up a packet of cigarettes. “I thought you quit! Remember? Because of my asthma?”

“I said I’d quit smoking around you, Dustin, there’s a difference. But I haven't had a smoke in nearly a month. Billy must have left them in here yesterday. He’s gonna be super grumpy when he gets in here, shit,” Steve rubbed his face. “Dustin, how bad is your asthma? Like. If he blew it out the window, would it matter that much?”

“I guess that’s okay,” Dustin muttered. “But I’m only doing this because I don't want him to hurt Max.”

“Got it. I’ll tell him to wave it out the window.”

When they arrived at Max’s house, the redhead and the blonde were sitting outside on the steps. Billy was tapping his foot irritably. Max clambered into the backseat, and Billy followed her, slamming the door shut. Steve tossed the cigarettes back. “You left these in here. You can smoke, but you have to blow it out the window. Okay?”

Billy nodded, rolling down the window and inhaling the smoke like it was his life source. As usual, Steve dropped the kids off first, and let Billy climb into the front seat where Dustin had been sitting.

“Any luck with your car?” Steve asked, trying to make small talk. Billy scoffed and shook his head.

“Needs to get fixed. Gotta pay for it out of my own pocket.”

Steve gnawed on his bottom lip. For some reason, he considered paying to fix the car himself. His Dad wouldn't really notice if some money went missing, he would probably just assume that Steve’s own car had broken down. But he was hesitant, because it was Billy.

Billy Hargrove, racist asshole.

Billy Hargrove, who had beaten Steve half to death.

Billy Hargrove, who had a dead Mum and a Dad that hit him.

Billy Hargrove.

A human, just like the rest of them.

“How much will it cost?” Steve heard himself asking. When Billy answered, he nodded and drove a little faster. “Okay. I’ll pay, but you need to do something for me first.”

Billy looked shocked. “What? You’ll pay? Why would you want to do that?”

“Apologise to Lucas, and the rest of the kids.”

Billy was silent for a moment before saying, “We’re not friends, Harrington.”

Steve shrugged. “I know.”

“So why the fuck do you want to do this for me?”

_Because I feel really sorry for you. _“Take it or leave it, Hargrove. I’m a generous person.”

There was silence again. This time, it lasted around two whole minutes. “Uh. Can I have a bit to think it over? I don't like owing people.”

“Yeah,” Steve nodded. “’Course.”

They pulled to a stop in one of the parking bays outside their high school and sat there for a long time listening to the radio. Billy went through two cigarettes, blowing smoke all over Steve’s ‘fancy rich boy seats’ and hanging his feet out the window. If anybody else, say, Dustin, had done that, then Steve would probably be pretty pissed. But Billy Hargrove apparently had never learned how to sit properly in a seat, plus, it wasn't like Steve was sitting normally either. Steve had his legs crossed like they used to do when they were kids, holding onto his ankles.

So they sat there, both of them silently judging the students that walked past whispering behind their hands at the two boys in the car. Steve knew what they were saying, and he was sure Billy did too.

“_Aren’t those two enemies?” _

“_Why are Steve Harrington and Billy Hargrove sitting together?” _

“_Is King Steve back?”_

The game of whispers was something that Steve had grown used to during his reign as ‘King Steve.’ They rarely affected him anymore, because what did the opinions of the other students matter to him? Really, few opinions mattered anymore. Only a few people actually held the title of being able to affect him with their words.

And one of those people were approaching him right now.

Nancy Wheeler walked through the parking lot, her chocolate brown hair bouncing. The school bell hadn't even rang yet and she already had a pile of books stacked into her arms. She had her lips pulled into a tight little frown and was headed straight towards them.

“Wheeler looks pissed,” Billy muttered, blowing smoke at Steve’s face, and Steve rolled his eyes before getting out of the car.

“Hey,” He grinned at Nancy, leaning against his car. “Whats up?”

“Really, Steve?” She adjusted the grip on her books and narrowed her eyes. “_Him_?”

“Huh?” Steve replied dumbly. Behind them, Billy snorted.

“For gods sake, Steve, you cannot be that stupid!” Nancy snapped, making Steve cringe a little. “Billy Hargrove?” She glanced over at the blonde, a nasty glare on her face, and leaned forward to whisper in Steve’s ear. “What does he have on you? Is he blackmailing you?”

“I can hear you, you know,” Billy remarked. Nancy slammed Steve’s car door shut and pulled Steve away from his car.

“Tell me what it is, we’ll figure it out, alright?” The anger in her eyes disappeared, revealing her soft little smile as she reached out to touch Steve’s arm. She ran her fingers over the fabric of his jacket, trying to comfort him. “What does he have? Are you okay?”

“Nancy...” Steve sighed, looking down at the floor. “He doesn't have anything on me,” _But Steve has things on him._ “His car broke down and since I know Max I figured I’d give them a ride ‘till it’s fixed. We’re just sitting in my car because school hasn’t started yet.”

“He looks like he’s really making himself at home,” They both glanced over at Billy, who still had his feet hanging out the window, and sighed.

“Look, it’s not like I’m going to suddenly become his best friend or something. I just like to help people. Its not that weird. Plus, he’s sort of… Different, to how he acts.”

Her face morphed back into anger. “Different?”

“Yeah,” Steve shrugged. “He’s changed, I guess.”

_Or he was always the same. Why? Because he’s just a fucking human, with feelings and emotions and pain, just like the rest of us._

“People can’t change.”

Steve was silent for a moment, staring down at Nancy. “I changed,” He said, gritting his teeth. “I changed for you. You changed for Jonathan. Jonathan changed for Will. Will changed for the Upside Down. People change, Nancy. The mind’s a funny thing, isn't it?” He chuckled drily. Without waiting for an answer, he turned around and started to walk back to his car. Nancy called his name, but he ignored her.

Billy was still sitting in Steve’s car by the time Steve flopped in his seat. He had changed position, now with his feet up against the car seat and his back against the glove box. He pursed his lips around the cigarette, taking a deep drag. “You gonna cry, Harrington?”

“No.”

“Good,” Billy blew smoke out of his mouth as he talked. “Don’t.”

He looked gorgeous when he did that. Steve sighed, turning away from the blonde and staring out the window. Nancy was walking back to the school, her head down. He sighed again, even more heavily than before.

“For fucks sake, Harrington,” Billy snapped, followed by the sound of shuffling. “Would you stop feeling sorry for yourself? She doesn't like me. Get over it. _You _don't like me. I’m not one of your bloody kids that you need to get all protective over, okay?”

Steve looked back over at him with a glare. “I didn't say you were, okay? Fucking back off, Hargrove!”

Billy ground his cigarette out on Steve’s dashboard. “Wow, King Steve’s grumpy. What a surprise.”

“Wanna skip class with me?” Steve asked the blonde, surprising both Billy and himself.

“Why would I want to do that?” Billy went to pull out yet another cigarette, found out that the packet was empty, and tossed it out the window with a groan.

“I’ll buy you more smokes,” Steve bargained, raising his eyebrows.

“I want two packets, not just one. And I want you to buy me breakfast.”

“Deal.”

“Alright then,” Billy kicked his feet up on the dashboard. “Take me on your date, King Steve.”

“It’s not a date,” Steve muttered as he started the car, but his heart skipped at the words.


	5. Chapter 5

Part of Steve wondered what the hell he was doing. Billy Hargrove had beaten him half to death, and could probably do it again if pushed in the wrong way. He would definitely beat the fuck out of Steve again if he discovered that Steve had taken his tapes.

But as Steve kept repeating to himself every time he found himself even slightly scared by the blonde, Billy is a human. Billy had thoughts and feelings – so many feelings, and he kept them sealed inside the tapes – just like the rest of them.

That was what kept Steve attempting to be nice to the guy.

They went to a diner a short drive away from the town. There were no other students there, which was a relief because Steve wasn't in the mood to avoid the eyes of fellow teenagers. Maybe Billy was the same, he wasn't sure. Billy rarely wore his heart on his sleeve, and Steve was quickly learning that. Billy was completely different around different people. He wore a mask for everyone.

Underneath that mask, Billy was human. He was a human with so much feelings, emotions, vulnerabilities and reasons for his anger.

Steve had a habit of taking strays underneath his wing. Of course, Billy would never accept that, would never let himself be taken care of the way Steve did with the kids, but maybe he could still find a way to get past the blonde’s walls. Maybe there was still hope for him.

Billy ordered a strawberry milkshake again, as well as a burger, chips, and a side of chicken wings. Maybe he wanted to see how far he could push Steve’s budget.

“Thought you wanted breakfast,” Steve said, watching as Billy scarfed down the burger, ignoring the other food. He had already finished the strawberry milkshake within five minutes of receiving it.

“Fucking is breakfast,” Billy replied, his mouth full. “Breakfast is food, Harrington! And a burger is food! You’re thicker than my damn milkshake was.”

“Yeah, but like,” Steve leaned away from the crumbs. “Breakfast as in pancakes? Or fucking bacon and eggs, I dunno. A burger is like, dinner food.”

“Sorry, but I don't really have the courtesy of a fucking nine course meal, Harrington. Breakfast is food, food is breakfast, get over it and order me another fucking milkshake.”

Steve sighed and waved the waitress over. She was a pretty girl, maybe a little older than them, with golden blonde hair and a huge chest. She eyed Billy, who raised his eyebrows back, chewing on the straw of his milkshake. “I want another strawberry milkshake, love,” He said. Steve rolled his eyes as Billy flirted shamelessly with the waitress, maybe to stop Steve from getting any ideas that Billy wasn't attracted to women.

Which, Steve already secretly knew he wasn't.

_Gay scent _came into Steve’s head and he held back laughter.

As Billy slurped on his second strawberry milkshake with the waitress’s number scribbled on a slip of paper in his pocket, he decided that was the best time to kick his feet up on the table. His heavy boots made a loud _thud _and the cutlery cluttered. He nudged the plate of chicken wings over towards Steve. “Eat up, Harrington.”

Steve pulled the plate towards himself, his brows furrowed. “Aren’t these for you?”

“Nah,” Billy shrugged. “Not a fan of chicken wings. Got them for you.”

“How do you know I like chicken wings?” Steve couldn't help but smile a little as he picked up a piece of chicken.

“I dunno. You order them a lot,” Seemingly done with the conversation, Billy looked away.

_When did Steve order in front of Billy? _“Oh. Oh, okay.”

They sat in silence for a while. The only sound that could be heard were the clangs in the kitchen and the murmur of other customers. Steve finished the chicken wings reasonably quickly and watched as Billy dipped his chips into the pink milkshake. “Ew,” Steve blurted out as Billy munched on his chips. “Did you seriously just do that?”

Billy smirked, taking another bite. “Tastes good, Harrington. Give it a try.”

Steve wrinkled his nose and shook his head. They both finished their meals (Billy ordered another two strawberry milkshakes in the time it took Steve to finish one coffee) and headed out so Steve could buy the blonde his cigarettes.

“What now?” Billy questioned as he set about smoking the entire packet in Steve’s car.

“Dunno,” Steve answered honestly. “Just wanted to get away from Nancy, so--” He cut himself off when he heard Billy chuckle. “Whats so funny?”

“You still let that chick push you around after she cheated on you, broke your stupid little heart, and made you bitch? King Steve indeed.”

Steve gritted his teeth, starting his car and pulling out of the diner carpark. “Can you shut up?”

“Say please. I have plenty of things to say about Nancy. Getting you all riled up, huh Harrington? Annoyed at me telling the truth?” He blew smoke out of his mouth, smirking. “Gonna say please, bitch?”

“_Please _stop talking. I wanted to skip class to get away from the subject of Nancy, okay?”

Billy chuckled, taking another drag of his cigarette. “Alright, alright. Just because I’m in a good mood ‘cause you bought me smokes. What do you wanna do then?”

“We could, like,” Steve sighed. “We could go to the quarry if you want. Like, turn up music and just listen to it.”

“Fucking lame.”

“Okay, well, what do _you _want to do?”

After a beat of silence, Billy sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Fuck it. Sure, lets go to the quarry.”

Steve grinned, satisfied, and took the next turn to the quarry.

<><><><>

Billy had his feet kicked up on the dashboard, listening to Steve’s radio. Both of them had a cigarette between their lips, the only sound the dumb songs they played on the radio. Billy hated most of them, but he could see Steve nodding his head to the beat so he didn't complain.

He was sitting so close to Steve he could probably lean over, steal a kiss, and then be out of the car before the dumbass could even comprehend what had happened. And damn, if Billy didn't want to kiss him. Seeing his crush in front of him, smoke floating out of his mouth, eyes closed in peace, it was amazing.

It was dangerous to be feeling this way, but Billy had long since come to accept it. The moment he had first laid eyes on Steve he knew he wanted to kiss that pretty little fucking mouth until he was gasping for breath.

But Steve Harrington was straight.

Of course he was fucking straight.

He was in love with a girl called Nancy Wheeler who had torn out his heart and stomped on it. Honestly, Billy didn't know why Steve still put up with her bullshit. If he was dating a girl that bitchy he would have told her to fuck off. But Billy would never get with a girl other than for the purpose of keeping up his reputation.

Fucking right and queer, he was. Was he proud of it? No. Did he try to stop the feelings? Fuck no. Back in California people were much more accepting, but in Hawkins the entire place was homophobic as fuck. All the fuckers had probably inhaled too much cow shit, and now became the shit themselves.

Billy had once wanted to befriend Steve. He couldn't have sex with Harrington, so might as well get close in other ways, right? Then, once he turned eighteen and went back to Cali then he could forget all about Steve’s pretty boy, all about that dumb gorgeous hair and those beautiful lips. He could forget all about Steve damn Harrington and instead move on, fuck other men till the day he fucking died. Or, you know, get fucked by them. Billy didn't exactly hate topping, he just preferred bottoming.

Steve could probably fuck him senseless.

He sometimes got hard just thinking about it, but since he was so close to Steve right now it was probably best to pull his mind away from the thought of Steve and him going for it.

“You gonna call that waitress?” Steve asked suddenly. He sounded strange. “Do you think she’s hot?”

“Not my type,” Billy answered. “You can have her.”

“Nah. What _is _your type?”

Billy grinned. Time to subtly flirt with Steve and imagine the different ways it could have turned out later, with his hand and some lotion. “Lemme think. Pretty, _really _pretty. Not a fan of big tits, or skirts. I like cute ones over hot ones, though I guess I can sometimes make an acceptance. Not really short, probably tall. Not all over me. Long legs, and, well its always funny to rile ‘em up. What about you?”

Steve got a look on his face. He looked like he was on the verge of something. “Oh yeah?” He bit his lip, looking away. “No chest, huh?”

“Yeah, well, big tits kind of sucks. Get in the way, I guess.”

“Hm,” Steve turned to stare at Billy. “Sounds like your type is boys, Billy Hargrove. You gay?”

Billy felt like his heart stopped. He held onto his cigarette so hard that he accidentally crushed it between his fingers. Steve knew. Harrington knew. He was fucked, he was royally fucked. “N-no,” He said, panicked. “I’m not gay. I’m not, I’m not, I swear!”

“Whoa, dude, calm down,” Steve reached out to touch him, but Billy shrunk away.

“I’m not!” Billy shouted, opening the car door and tossing his cigarette out onto the ground. “I fucking swear, please, I’m not. Please don’t hurt me!”

His heart was beating fast. He could feel the gravel digging into his knees as he collapsed onto the ground, tears blurring his vision.

He knew, Steve knew. Steve? No. Neil, Neil knew. Neil hurt him. Neil was going to kill him.

Because it was his fault, his fucking fault.

He started to cry loudly, tugging at his hair. He hated himself, he hated his life, he hated Neil, he hated fucking everyone because no one understood how much his Mum had fucked him up.

_Steve?_

_No, not Steve._

_Who’s Steve?_

Billy felt arms around him, but he didn't stop crying. In fact, he started crying more, screaming so loudly that his throat hurt.

_Who’s Steve?_

_We’re scaring Steve._

_That’s Steve._

_Don’t scare Steve._

_Not Steve._

_WHO IS STEVE?!_

“Listen to me!” The voice sounded blurry, everything sounded blurry. The voices all talked at once, making it impossible to hear their sentences. Billy could only catch snippets of their conversations.

_Steve-- Scaring-- Hate-- Neil-- Mum-- Your-- Steve-- Bad-- Hurting-- Steve! Not-- Dead-- Queer-- Faggot, queer, useless-- STEVE!_

“You’re having a panic attack, Billy. I’m taking you back to my place, okay?” The arms were around him again, and he felt himself being hauled to his feet. Once sat down, he pulled his knees up to his chest and covered his head, still crying.

All sense of time was lost. Billy felt himself being led somewhere, then felt something soft underneath him. Blankets were tucked around him, his shoes removed, as well as his jacket, and music played softly in the background. Elvis.

Billy fucking hated Elvis.

He fell asleep listening to it anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so first things first, I am quite aware that most people can not have a panic attack just from being called a certain word. I was running on two days with no sleep and three cups of coffee, let me live, guys. The panic attack was meant to show how hard it is for Billy to cope without his tapes, but... Uh. I'm kind of a shitty writer so... Hopefully you guys can forgive me?  
Another thing is that for some fucking reason, Italics dont always work on this? I'll try and fix it later.  
Edit: I fixed it.


	6. Chapter 6

Steve set a glass of water down on the coffee table and turned the song up a little more. Billy was asleep on his couch, had been for nearly an hour now, gripping onto the blankets tightly. Steve understood how the blonde was so tired; Steve suffered from panic attacks too. Usually when he heard a scratch on the window or was alone at night. Billy’s trigger was apparently being called gay.

That was kind of sad.

Steve moved to the kitchen, and as quietly as he could started to make sandwiches and some tea. He didn't know how long that Billy was going to be out, but if his panic attacks were anything like Steve’s then it would be quite a damn while.

The song switched over and Steve quickly shut it off. He had only played Elvis to help Billy get to sleep. It had apparently worked. Steve felt a little sleepy too, but that probably had nothing to do with the song and was just sleep deprivation.

Tea always calmed him down after a panic attack, so Steve made some and put it down on the table in front of Billy, next to the glass of water and plate of sandwiches. He worriedly bit his lip, not really sure what to do with the boy on his couch. If Steve didn't know what was going on in Billy’s home life, he probably would have just called Billy’s place and told Billy’s Dad to come pick him up. Instead, he picked up the walkie-talkie the kids had convinced him to buy, and radioed Max.

“Steve?” She said, her voice crackling with static. “Whats up?”

“Look, uh, are you at school right now?” Steve asked, leaning against the wall.

“Yeah, but its lunch. What is it? The Party is here, by the way.”

A chorus of “Hello Steve!’s” filled the room and Steve chuckled, shaking his head. “Hi kiddos. I need to talk to Max though. It’s about Billy.”

“What about him?!” Dustin’s voice shrieked. “Steve, he’s attacked you, hasn’t he! Oh no! Come on guys, we gotta save him!”

“No!” Steve couldn't help the hysterical chuckle that escaped him. “No, I’m okay. It’s actually Billy. He had an, uh, an episode? Do you know what I mean, Max?”

“An episode?”

“He panicked or something. I dunno. He’s asleep on my couch right now. What do I _do_?!”

“Call Neil,” Max replied. She rattled off the number, double checked that Steve had heard it, and turned off her walkie-talkie without another word. Steve swore, hitting the wall, but moved over to the phone. If Max thought it was best, then it probably was. Fucking great.

A woman picked up the phone. “Hello?” She asked, her voice high pitched.

“Yeah, hi, is Neil Hargrove there?” Steve asked, twirling his finger around the phone cord and glancing back at the lounge room with a worried look on his face. “It’s about his son. Billy.”

“Oh!” The woman squeaked, and there was a shuffle before a different person came onto the phone.

“This is Neil Hargrove.”

“Hi, my names Steve Harrington. I have your son here, he had a panic attack and he’s back at my place now. Is there anything I should do? I have him sleeping on the couch right now and he’s stopped crying and--” Steve was cut off as Neil swore. “Uh, sir?” He swallowed. “You still there?”

“What’s your address, Harrington?” Neil snapped. “I’m coming to get him, I just need to get off work first. Give me twenty minutes, then I’ll be on my way.”

“No, no, I can look after him! Its okay!” Steve panicked, moving from his casual position against the wall to standing straight upright. Billy was going to fucking kill him when he woke up. “I’ve looked after people with panic attacks before, I can--”

“I’ll just ask around, get your address. Sorry that you had to look after my piece of shit son, Steve. He’s nothing but trouble. Thank you so much,” A beep told Steve that the man had hung up. Steve’s eyes widened and he moved quickly to the lounge room. Billy was sitting up on the couch, his arms around his knees and a scowl on his face.

“You okay?” Steve questioned, handing him the glass of water. “Here, drink up.”

Billy shoved the glass away, causing water to spill over the floor. “You fucking called my Dad?!”

“Well, I called Max first, but she said to call Neil so--”

“So you called him. God, Harrington, anyone ever told you that you can be _really _stupid?” Billy shouted, throwing a cushion at Steve’s face. Steve ducked, sighing.

“I made you a sandwich,” Steve said quietly. “Eat it already. There’s tea there too, so… Drink up. Panic attacks can take a lot out of someone,” He straightened, turning around and walking over to the front door. He locked it and tucked the key into his pocket, so Billy wouldn't run for it. When he returned, Billy was eating the sandwich, glaring down at the floor like it had personally offended him.

“It wasn't a panic attack,” Billy grumbled. “It was just, like, I dunno. It wasn't a panic attack, I...”

“You…?” Steve questioned when Billy trailed off.

The blonde sighed dramatically, picking at his sandwich. “Okay. It was a panic attack.”

“I know.”

“I’m not gonna thank you.”

“Yeah, I know that too,” Steve sat down on the armchair, pulling his knees up to his chest. “Are you okay, though? You really freaked out.”

“Go fuck yourself, Harrington,” Billy answered before gulping down the tea.

“Yeah, nah. Your Dad says he’ll be on his way in twenty minutes,” Steve awkwardly looked down at his legs. “I, uh, I’m sorry for calling him but I didn't know what else to do.”

“You should have just left me alone,” Billy muttered.

They both sat in silence until they heard a truck outside. Billy sighed, hugging his arms around himself. He headed to Steve’s TV screen and looked at himself in it, checking his eyes and turning his head from side to side. Steve got up and headed over to the front door. Who he could only assume was Neil Hargrove walked up his driveway towards the front door. He knocked heavily and Steve opened. “Uh, hi,” He said.

“Neil Hargrove,” Neil said, holding out his hand. Steve shook it firmly, holding Neil’s eye. He knew he was glaring at the man, but he couldn't bring himself to stop. _Fucking asshole, hitting his kid. _“Where’s Billy?” Neil asked.

“Uh, in the lounge. Before you go in, I just… Like, none of this was his fault. I made him come with me, I was the one who scared him. So if you’re gonna get angry, get angry at me. I’m the one who messed up,” Steve admitted.

Neil smiled wryly. “It’s Steve, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Steve. I can tell none of this was your fault. You’re just covering for my son, it’s okay. Billy knows the consequences when something like this happens.”

“Its… Its happened before?”

“I’d like to see him,” Neil said, clearly avoiding the question. Steve nodded and headed towards the lounge room a little too quickly, deciding to silently warn Billy that Neil was here.

The boys held eye contact, and Steve could have sworn he saw Billy stand up straighter. Neil entered the lounge, crossed his arms, and glared at Billy. “William,” He said.

“Before you go off, I swear it wasn't my fault, I...” Billy trailed off. “I’m sorry.”

“Would you like something to drink?” Steve offered them, hoping to keep Billy from going home for as long as possible. Neil smiled again.

“Sorry, no, I’d best get Billy here home. Come on, boy,” He grabbed Billy’s shirt. Billy went to grab his jacket off the chair but Neil was already tugging him to the front door by his shirt.

“Can I put my shoes on, please?” Billy asked, the please sounding forced. Steve followed them. Neil rolled his eyes and scooped up Billy’s shoes, tucking them underneath his arm.

“Come _on_. We need to talk. Alone.”

“Yes,” Billy visibly swallowed. “Yes sir.”

Steve watched as Billy was dragged out the front door and out to Neil’s pickup truck. The man was already starting to yell, and Billy was curling in on himself in the front seat, shrinking away from the man. They drove away, leaving Steve alone to his empty house.

When he went back into the lounge, he discovered Billy had left his leather jacket behind. Or, more like Neil hadn't let him grab it. Steve picked it up, pulling it over his shoulders without thinking. He was surrounded by the smell of Billy, cigarettes and cologne. For some reason, it calmed him. He hugged it tighter around himself and went upstairs to grab the tapes.

<><><><>

Steve actually managed to sleep that night. He was greeted by nightmares, as usual, but they were different. For some reason, Billy had actually crept his way into his dreams, fighting monsters by Steve’s side. Then there was a crash, and Steve was in the Upside-Down, Billy and Dustin being torn to shreds while Steve watched, paralysed.

He wrapped a blanket around his shoulders, wanting to skip class again. He sighed, pretending to be sick as he called Dustin’s Mum. “I can’t drop Dustin off today,” Steve said, making his voice raspy. “I have an, uh, stomach ache. I’m sick. Tell Dustin I’m sorry--”

“Oh, sweetie!” Claudia, Dustin’s mother, cooed. “Do you want me to come over? I’ll bring soup.”

“No, no its okay. I’ve been sick plenty of times before, but thanks,” Steve could feel himself smiling. He was closer with Claudia and Joyce then he was with his own mother, which could be considered sad. “Tell Dustin I said hi.”

“You can say it yourself!” Claudia said, and the phone was passed to Dustin.

“Steve, are you okay?” The thirteen year old asked. “Is your sickness a cover? Did Billy hurt you?”

“No, he didn't. I just don't wanna go to school today. Does Max have a ride?”

“I don't know. She can probably skate, or I could get my Mum to pick her up as well,” Dustin replied. “Are you seriously okay?”

“Yes! I’m seriously okay. Billy didn't do anything, alright shithead?” Steve sighed. “Can I go now? I’m tired. Wanna watch a movie or something.”

“Okay, seeya!” Dustin hung up on him and Steve put the phone back on the hook. He had toast for breakfast, as well as three cups of coffee and a cigarette. He listened to tapes 28, 29, and 30. More bruises, Billy had gone home drunk and had been hit across the face for it, and Billy had seen a cute guy on the street that had winked at him.

At around ten am, there was the sound of a car pulling up his driveway. Steve grabbed his bat, peeking out the window, but put it down when he saw Billy Hargrove getting out of his father’s truck and walking up towards the front door. Max’s red hair was visible in the back seat. Steve yanked off the leather jacket, hid the bat, and opened the front door. “Hey,” He said, trying to smile kindly at him.

Billy tipped his chin at him, his hands in his pockets. He was wearing an actual shirt, for once. “I, uh, left my jacket here. Can I come in and grab it?”

“Yeah,” Steve pulled the blonde inside, ignoring his protests, and closed the door behind them. He pinched Billy’s chin and turned his face from side to side, staring at the bruises on his cheek and his split lip. “Did your Dad do this?”

“No,” Billy yanked away from him. “Give me my jacket.”

“He hurt you, didn't he? Are you okay?”

Billy sighed, rolling his eyes. “Stop being nosy. Give me my jacket, Harrington.”

Steve sighed, handing him the leather jacket and following the blonde out the front door. “Wait,” He grabbed Billy’s arm.

“Fucking _what_, Harrington?!” Billy asked, his voice cracking.

“Yesterday. Do you get panic attacks often?”

It must have been the wrong thing to say, because Billy started yelling in Steve’s face. “What?! You wanna tell the whole world about yesterday, huh? How I freaked out?! How I fucking panicked?! How I _cried_?! Yeah, I have panic attacks, so fucking what? Just _shut up,_ Harrington! _Leave me the fuck alone_!!” He shoved Steve roughly and stomped towards his father’s car, getting in and slamming the door behind him. Steve sighed, hugging his arms around himself and watching as Billy and Neil began to argue. Max looked scared, tucking herself as close as possible to the car door.

Steve wasn't angry at Billy for shouting at him, honestly. Billy was mad. Steve was there to take his anger out on. It was an unhealthy coping mechanism, yeah, but Steve could help him.

So help he did.

When Neil grabbed Billy’s hair, forcing the blonde to look up at him, Steve decided to step forward. He could easily threaten Neil with calling the police, could probably blackmail the man to do whatever he wanted.

He tapped on Neil’s window, interrupting their argument. “Mr Hargrove,” He said when Neil rolled down his window, shoving Billy’s face away from his. “I’m going to need you to stop grabbing Billy’s hair, and stop yelling too. That’s abuse, Mr Hargrove. I have the right mind to call the police. I’m sure they’ll want to know what happened to Billy’s face, too. So, stop shouting at him and get off my property. If you want to leave Billy and Max here too, fine, I’ll drive them home later when you’ve calmed down.”

Billy looked shocked. He had just yelled at Steve, told him to leave him alone, yet the boy still wanted to help him. Max’s scared expression morphed into a smile, and she perked up, her eyes full of tears. Even Neil looked surprised. Steve smiled one of his signature smiles, the ones that he used on his parents friends at parties, the cute, sweet boy he was.

“You know,” Steve continued, leaning on the top of the car. “I happen to be pretty damn close with Jim Hopper. You know, the _chief of police_. He’s really gonna wanna know where those bruises came from. In fact, I have his personal number inside. All I have to say is, _hey Jim, there’s a guy here abusing his kid, can you come and arrest him_ and he’ll do exactly that. You want to get arrested, sir?”

“What do you want?” Neil spat, clearly seething.

“Max, do you wanna watch a movie?” Steve asked, ignoring Neil. “I have like, heaps. Actually, you guys could probably stay the night. Not if you don't want to, of course, but if you wanna head inside I’ll make some breakfast. That okay with you, Mr Hargrove?”

“If you think I’m letting go of my kids that easily--”

“Just for the night,” Steve grinned, crossing his arms. “I’ll bring them back tomorrow, I promise.”

“Fine,” Neil forced out. “Get out of the damn car, Billy, Max, call your Mum tonight.”

“Yes sir,” Billy mumbled, opening the car door. He glared at Steve as he got out. Max jumped out of the car without saying anything to Neil, she instead walked over to Steve and stared her step-father down with him.

“See you tomorrow, Mr Hargrove,” Steve waved cheerfully. Neil scowled, turning his car around and speeding down the driveway.

“What the fuck, Harrington?!” Billy shouted when they could no longer see the car. “What is wrong with you?!”

“You’re welcome,” Steve shrugged. “Come on, let me help you. You have bruises all over your face. Max, you wanna go pick a movie?”

Max started to walk towards the front door, but Billy grabbed her shoulder. For a moment, Steve thought he was going to tell her that she had to go home, but instead the words that came out of his mouth were completely different. “Don’t pick anything lame, shit bird.”

She rolled her eyes, tugging away from him. “Go fuck yourself.”

Billy stuck his middle finger up at her back as she walked away from them, before turning to Steve. He sighed, shaking his head. “I cant believe you fucking talked down my Dad.”

“He hurt you,” Steve answered. He offered Billy a smile. “Now will you let me clean up your face? Your lip is still bleeding.”

“I can do it by myself,” Billy pushed past him and walked into the house like he owned the place. Steve followed him, finding Max sitting on the couch.

“Hey,” She said, but her voice sounded weird. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Steve ruffled her bright red hair. “You alright, kiddo?”

“I, uh, yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. It’s just...” She glanced over at the bathroom door, where Steve assumed Billy was cleaning up his face. “Neil beat him up outside my bedroom door this morning. They both thought I was asleep, but I could see them, and Billy was bleeding so much, and...” She sniffled, attempting to hold her tears in. “Its just so fucked up, okay? All of this, its fucking fucked!”

Steve jolted as Max jumped up, wrapping her arms tightly around his middle. “Oh, kiddo,” Steve muttered, stroking her head. “You’re gonna be okay.”

“I’m not worried about me! I’m worried about him! He never found that thing he lost, its like he’s losing his mind! I don't want him to be hurt, Steve, which is dumb because I hate him so fucking much!”

“I hate him too,” Steve replied. “But I don't want him to be hurt. And I’m so sorry you had to see that.”

“God,” She stepped back, wiping her nose on her sleeve. “I’m so dumb.”

“Nah, you’re not. Neil is.”

“Billy is pretty fucking dumb too,” Max replied, giggling.

“You talking shit about me, brat?” Billy asked, coming out of the bathroom wiping his face with a hand towel. He had tied his hair up in a bun, and also removed his denim jacket. Along his arms were hand prints, bruises, and cuts. Steve’s eyes widened.

“Shit, I didn't know it was that bad!”

“If you think my arms are ugly, you should see Max’s face. The fuck are you crying about, Maxine?”

“None of your business,” Max snapped. Steve rolled his eyes, ruffling the redhead’s hair again. She rolled his eyes and pushed his arm away.

“So you guys off school today, huh?” Steve asked as Max sorted through his movies. Billy was lighting a cigarette, leaning over the couch.

“No,” The blonde answered sarcastically. “You’re actually in class right now. You’re asleep on your desk. People can hear you saying, _oh Billy, oh, oh Billy!_”

“Don’t be an ass, Billy,” Max muttered, holding up a movie. “Can we watch Jaws, Steve?”

“Yeah, ‘course. Seriously though, Max, why are you off school?”

“Faked sick.”

“Hey, me too!”

“Am I the only one who’s actually injured?” Billy grumbled, but Steve could see the corners of his mouth tilting upwards into a smile around his cigarette.

“Yes,” Steve and Max chorused. Steve looked down at the redhead. “If you want a tip for making fake vomit then--”

“Don’t encourage her,” Billy interrupted. “Besides, she already knows how to make fake vomit,” He flopped onto the couch, wincing.

Max put the movie on and they sat in silence, watching it. Billy lit about three cigarettes before Steve told him to go sit by the window. Surprisingly, the blonde obeyed. “Hey, so I was thinking,” Steve said when he was out of Billy’s earshot. “I could probably convince the parents to let the Party come over here for the night. I know its a school night and all, but I don't want you being stuck here with just me and Billy. You probably want your friends over, right?”

“Really?!” Max brightened. “Yeah, that’d be awesome! Thanks so much, Steve!”

“No prob. If you excuse me, I have some phone calls to make. Charm, activate,” Steve flashed her a smile, making her laugh as he headed over to the phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is over 3000 words. Nice. Also, again, apologies for being a shitty writer :(


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I love my sass queen Billy.

It took barely three minutes to get Claudia to say yes. Joyce and Mrs Sinclair were a little harder, but Steve managed to convince them with the promise he’d pick them up and drop them off at school the next morning, and make sure that they didn't eat too much candy. Karen Wheeler was the hardest to convince, but after Steve said “Yeah, well Billy is here so--” She had suddenly insisted on dropping Mike off at Steve’s house and bringing over some cookies. Finally, there was Chief Jim Hopper. He took a couple of minutes to convince, because Billy Hargrove was there too, but Steve added quietly that he needed to talk to Hopper in private. “Its actually about Billy. And, like, his Dad,” and Hopper agreed.

Max and Steve binged movies all day, ate popcorn, and drank all the soft drink in the fridge. Billy spent most of his time either smoking or teasing Max. Steve excused himself to go and get into something more comfortable and stuffed the tapes underneath his bed so Billy wouldn't find them, even though they were technically his. Steve just wanted to keep them. Maybe he could give them back when Billy was a little more mentally stable.

“I gotta go pick the kids up from school,” Steve said. “Can I trust you here with Max?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m not gonna murder her. Go get your nerd herd, Harrington.”

Steve collected Dustin, Lucas, and Will from school. Ell and Mike were getting dropped off. The kids glared at Billy when they saw him, but headed into the lounge room for pizza. Billy shot them his middle finger, scowling.

“You didn't tell me they were coming back here,” Billy grumbled, taking a long drag of his cigarette.

“Must have forgot to mention it,” Steve replied innocently. He then sat next to Billy, lighting his own cigarette and leaning against the wall. They sat outside in silence for a long time, their thighs pressed together. Eventually, Steve spoke. “You ever gonna go to the cops about your Dad?”

“I dunno what you’re talking about, Harrington. Get your head out of your ass.”

“Please. Even an idiot can tell.”

“That’s why you can tell, then?”

“Ha! You just admitted that he’s hurting you! Seriously, I reckon you should actually talk to the police,” Without thinking, Steve moved forward and brushed his thumb over the bruise on Billy’s cheek. The other boy winced, moving his head away.

“Cops don't help,” Billy muttered, looking away and lighting another cigarette. “I’ve already tried that. Back in Cali. Besides, he’s not usually this bad. I just… Fuck, Harrington, it doesn't _matter_.”

“No, it does matter. Like it or not, I wanna help you,” Steve snapped, yanking the cigarette out from between Billy’s fingers.

Billy scoffed. “Yeah, sure you do. Seriously, I’ve told you, it really doesn't matter. Can we talk about something else?”

Steve sighed and handed back the cigarette, resting his head against the wall. He spoke again. “So, I thought your car was like, the shit. How come it broke down?”

“I dunno. I need to scrounge together the money to fix it soon though, I hate getting lifts from people.”

“I told you. Apologise to the kids and I’ll pay for it. You wont owe me anything. Wait until the rest of the Party arrives and then you can say sorry,” Steve insisted. Billy smiled, shaking his head like he found something amusing.

“The Party?” He asked, his eyebrows raised.

“Its what they call themselves. Don't make fun of them, they’re just kids,” Steve looked up when he heard the sound of a car coming up the driveway. “Hey, check it out, Mrs Wheeler is here.”

“Okay,” Billy muttered, flicking his cigarette away as he stood. “I’m heading inside. Not in the mood to flirt right now.”

“Aw, don't you want to say hi?” Steve teased. Billy rolled his eyes and flipped Steve off.

“I’m heading inside. Gonna find something to eat.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve stood up, walking towards the car. “Hiya, Mike. The Party is inside, and Ell will be here in a few. Also, Billy’s in there, but he’s promised not to--”

“Billy’s in there?!” Mike squawked. “When Ell is coming over?!”

“Look, I already got the okay from Hop. Plus, Billy’s not going to do anything. He and Max needed somewhere to stay tonight so I--”

“Fine,” Mike shoved past him. Steve rolled his eyes and leaned down to wave at Karen. She waved back, getting out of the car.

“I brought cookies!” She smiled, holding up a plate. “Where’s Billy? I need to talk to him.”

“Actually, sorry, he’s asleep right now,” Steve replied. “But I’m sure you’ll see him some other time.”

Looking disappointed, Karen handed Steve the plate and climbed back into her car. Steve waved as she drove away, holding the cookie. Finally, Chief Hopper and Ell arrived, in Hopper’s police car. Both of them clambered out, Ell giving Steve a hug before running inside. Steve waited until the front door was closed before speaking with Hopper. “Look, I’ve got some questions, but you have to promise not to get too… Aggressive. It’s, uh...” He scratched his head awkwardly. “Hypothetically, if Billy was getting abused and beaten up by his Dad but didn't admit it, what could we do about it?”

“Hypothetically, we’d need to convince the kid to confirm it. After that, we’d probably send him to a foster home somewhere until he’s eighteen,” Hopper answered. “Is the kid in there?”

“This is all hypothetical. But, like, could we do anything to help him?” Steve murmured, scuffing his feet on the ground. “He’s – hypothetically – really hurt. Like, there’s bruises all over him and--”

“I’m going inside,” Hopper held up his hand when Steve tried to protest. “I’m not gonna scare him. Just gotta get a look. I’ll say I needed to talk to the kids.”

“Okay,” Steve followed Hopper inside, his hands in his pockets. Hopper glanced around the room to see Billy, but the blonde wasn't there.

“Where is he?”

“Kitchen.”

“Alright, I’m gonna go in there and say you owe me a can of soup or something. That okay?” Without waiting for an answer, Hopper headed into the kitchen. Steve stood outside, listening in. Inside, Billy watched the cop wearily, his arms crossed.

Fucking Steve, sending a cop in here. Billy tried to move past and get out of the kitchen, but he froze when the cop stepped in front of him. He held his hand out. “The names Chief Jim Hopper,” The cop said gruffly.

“Whatever it is, I didn't do it,” Billy muttered, scowling.

“Wasn’t accusing you of doing anything,” The policeman tipped Billy’s chin up, making him look up at the roof. “What happened here?”

“Got into a fight,” Billy tugged his chin away. “Can I go now?”

“Your Dad is Neil Hargrove, correct?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, heard that he’s a bit tough on his family,” Hopper raised an eyebrow. “You’d have to be getting into a lot of fights to be this fucked, kid.”

“Yeah, well. Lot of people hate me,” Billy replied, shrugging. “Seriously, what do you want? Did Steve put you up to this?”

“You fight a lot?”

“I told you, lot of people hate me.”

Hopper sighed, crossing his arms. “Alright, cut the shit kid. I think we both know that your father is doing this to you. Hypothetically, if you confirmed it, we could head down to the station right now. You’ve got a lot of bruises, we’d take some photos, get enough evidence. Neil would be under arrest, you’d be able to have a good life. Doesn’t that sound good?”

Billy growled under his breath. “Cops don't help!” He shouted, stomping his foot. “He’s not hurting me, and even if he was I wouldn't come to you! I’ve dealt with your kind before. Its all good for a little while, everything is going okay, but then you get sick of dealing with me and you suddenly say my home is safe enough to go back to. I get hurt again, you guys don't do shit about it! Like, _hypothetically_,” He hissed the last part, his hands curling into fists. Hopper scowled back.

“If you don't confirm it, then we cant--”

“You cant do shit, yeah, I know. That's kinda the point,” Billy pushed past him and stomped out of the kitchen. He glared at Steve when he saw him. “Stop trying to be a hero, Harrington. I’m fucking fine. My Dad isn't hurting me, I don't need your charity!”

Steve was silent for a moment before he spoke. “Do you, uh, want a drink?”

“What?” Billy froze. “You’re… You’re seriously offering me a drink right now?”

“Well, my parents happen to have a liquor cabinet so...” He shrugged. “Just gotta wait until Hop is gone. But seriously, if you just, well, admitted it then you’d be able to leave and--”

“Got any Jack?” Billy interrupted, lowering his voice so the cop didn't hear him. “Tastes great with coke.”

“Yeah, its my favourite,” Steve grinned. “I’m pretty good at making fancier drinks if you want.”

“Years of entertaining the party guests?”

“You know it.”

“Nah, I think I’ll stick to the coke,” Billy answered. Steve chuckled, looking sweet and somewhat relieved, and headed into the kitchen to talk with the cop. Billy didn't bother listening into their murmur of voices. He instead went into the lounge, where the kids were setting up some nerd game, and flopped on the couch. “Hi,” He greeted them. There were two ones that he hadn't spoken to personally, but had heard of them. A boy with a bowl cut and a weird looking girl with short curly brown hair.

“Hi?” A pale little shit asked. “What do you want? Come to beat up Lucas again?”

“No,” Billy rolled his eyes.

“Get out, Billy,” Max ordered, and he flipped her off before lighting a cigarette and wandering out of the lounge. Hopper and Steve were standing at the front door, looking serious. Hopper nodded at Billy.

“If you ever wanna call me, I’m going to give you my personal number,” The cop said. “If, hypothetically, your father hits you again,” He scrawled something on a slip of paper and handed it to Billy, his eyebrows raised. “Keep that in mind, okay kid?”

“I’m not a fucking kid, and he doesn't fucking hit me, _sir_,” Billy spat, but he took the number anyway and tucked it into the pocket of his jeans.

When the cop finally left Billy headed straight over to the liquor cabinet. He grabbed the first bottle of Jack he could see, shoving it into Steve’s hands. “Make me a drink, Harrington.”

“Ah, what a nice house guest you are.”

“Shut up, you adore me,” Billy sat down at the table, secretly watching as Steve mixed the drinks together. The boy looked so cute when he was focused, and goddamn, did he do his hair this morning? “Nice hair, Harrington. All over the damn place, nice. You shake your head like a dog and decided you like the look?”

Steve rubbed his neck, chuckling. “Yeah, well, I didn't exactly expect to see anyone today. Also, my hair gets like this when I sleep so… Shut up, Hargrove.”

Billy laughed and leaned forward. “Between you and me, I think it looks good. You look like you belong.”

“I look like I belong...?”

“Yeah, you look like you belong… In a mental asylum!” Billy teased. Steve rolled his eyes, setting a very full glass on the table in front of Billy. Billy picked it up, took a sip, and sighed. “Fuck, its been ages since I had a good drink. This is fucking great.”

“You’re welcome,” Steve replied, taking a sip from his own glass. There was a crash from the lounge room, and Steve slammed his glass down before stomping off to the lounge. Billy snorted as he listened to Steve telling off the nerds, ordering them to get a broom and sweep something up. When Steve returned, he was rubbing his temples and looking stressed. “They broke one of my Mum’s glass swans,” He explained when Billy shout him a questioning look.

“Oh no,” Billy pouted. “However will she survive? Not her glass swan!”

“She has like nine more, they came in a set, but I’m getting pretty sick of having to look around for someone who can replicate my Mum’s trinkets that the kids broke,” Steve groaned, taking a large gulp of his drink. “Its not that I don't adore them, but shit, that’s my Mum’s stuff!”

“Ah, so stressed,” Billy replied. “How about we go sit outside for a while? Like, just leave the kids to wreck the house.”

“Yeah,” Steve answered. “Okay. Just give me a sec,” The boy put his glass down again and raced upstairs. He returned with something clutched in his hand. “Got some weed,” He smirked.

“Nice! Please tell me its good.”

“It is. I already smoked some a few days ago,” Steve picked up his glass and they headed towards the front door to Steve’s front yard.

“Why not the back?” Billy asked as they sat down. “Like, don't you have a pool back there?”

Steve was silent for a moment. “Bad memories out there,” He murmured, his voice sounding weird. “We’ll just smoke here and risk getting caught.”

“Okay,” Billy agreed, looking away from Steve’s sad brown eyes. “Yeah, we’ll just sit out here then.”


	8. Chapter 8

Billy held his lighter to the end of the joint. He breathed in, his eyes closed as he embraced the blissful feeling of the drug. He held it for around ten seconds before releasing it. As he handed the joint over to Steve their fingertips brushed together, making his heart skip a beat.

A little white later they were both high and extremely drunk. The bottle that Billy had grabbed off the counter was finished, lying on the pebbles a few metres away from them, where Steve had rolled it.

Steve giggled, pressing his face against Billy’s shoulder and mumbling something. Billy sighed, slouching as he took another hit of the weed. “There’s so many people,” He heard himself say, the feeling that he was floating hitting him suddenly. He giggled, handing the joint over to Steve and raising his hand to the sky. His hand was as big as a cloud. That was cool. “Like,” He continued. “In the world. There’s so many of us! And we’re all just existing at the same time! You ever think about that?”

“I don't think!” Steve replied, cackling. He moved even closer to Billy. “I’m actually, like, really, really, really dumb. I’m gonna fail my classes if I don't start trying harder,” For some reason, Steve found that funny. He giggled again. “Stupid Steve.”

“You aren't stupid, you’re like, smart,” Billy replied. He pressed his thigh against Steve’s. “Pretty and smart. Smart Steve,” His hand closed over the cloud, then moved over to another cloud.

He felt a hand on his and looked at it. Steve had his hand raised too, except it was wrapped loosely around Billy’s own hand. “Pretty Billy,” The other boy murmured, laughing. “Silly, pretty Billy.”

“Ooh, you’re holding my hand,” Billy laughed, tugging his hand away and plucking the joint out of Steve’s fingers.

“Wanna know a secret, Billy?” Steve asked. Billy nodded, breathing out the smoke all over Steve’s face. Steve gasped, opening his mouth to breath it in too, and spoke. “You cant tell anyone. You have to promise.”

“Gonna confess your love to me, Pretty Boy?” Billy murmured, leaning the side of his head against the wall behind them. “Go ahead.”

“Billy. You have to _promise_,” Steve insisted, looking serious.

“I promise.”

“Okay, my secret...” Steve sucked in a breath, staring up at the sky. Billy smiled, watching as Steve closed his eyes lazily. “I have a big secret. My secret, is… I’m like, really drunk, and pretty high too, Billy! That's my secret!”

They both erupted into giggles like a pair of schoolgirls. Billy finished off the last of the joint and ground it out on the concrete beneath them. “I have a secret too, King Steve. Wanna know what it is?”

“Yeah,” Steve leaned his head against the wall too, their faces inches apart. “Tell me your secret, Goldilocks.”

Billy leaned forward, his nose brushing against Steve’s. “My secret. I’m in fucking love with y--”

“Steve!” Somebody shouted. The two tugged apart to look up at the curly haired boy with the brightly coloured hat. Dustin, Billy remembered Steve calling the kid that. “Are you smoking weed?!”

“Oh no,” Steve giggled. “We’ve been found!”

“Oh no!” Billy shrieked, tossing his head back and laughing. Steve rolled away from him, sitting up a few metres away. He grabbed the bottle, tried to tip the imaginary liquid down his throat, and pouted when he found it was empty. Billy stood up too, wobbly. “Whatcha want, Toothless?”

“My name is Dustin, you asshole!”

“Hi Dustin you asshole,” Billy replied, causing Steve to laugh even harder. “I’m Billy.”

“Are you two _drunk_?” Max asked, coming up behind Dustin with her arms crossed. Her hair looked especially bright, which made Billy smile.

“Maxine. Maxi pad. We’re _extremely _drunk and high, don’t you fucking judge us,” Billy offered Steve his hand. When Steve grabbed his hand Billy leaned down, their faces inches apart. “Plant your feet,” He said in a deep voice, making them both erupt into more laughter as Billy helped Steve up for real.

“Wait,” Steve said, confused. “When did the kids get here?”

“You’re both drunk and high?!” Max groaned. “Are you kidding me?”

“It’ll wear off eventually, don't be so grumpy, Maxi cab,” Billy said, putting his arm around Steve’s shoulders. “Come on, lets head inside. I’m like, pretty drunk and if I’m gonna trip then I wanna do it on a nice, soft carpet.”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed, shoving Billy’s arm off of his shoulders. “Lets go inside. I want fucking ice cream. And pizza. At the same time.”

“Fucking disgusting, you shit,” Billy said, but that actually sounded surprisingly good so he followed Steve inside the big house.

<><><><>

Later, when Billy and Steve had slept off the effects of the alcohol – they didn't want to, but Dustin made them both sleep on the couch – they ordered pizza for the kids. Billy silently watched a movie, his arms hugged around himself. He looked sad. Hell, he felt sad.

It was easy to forget about your problems when you’re under the influence of alcohol and drugs. It was easy to forget about your Dad when you have you crush in front of you, smiling and laughing. It was easy to forget what life was really like when Steve fucking Harrington made it look so damn great to exist.

But of course that wouldn't last.

Tomorrow, Billy and Max would have to go home. They’d fall back into their routine once Billy’s car was fixed. They’d ignore each other, Billy would go out and get drunk or high, he’d drive Max to D&D nights and Neil would turn all his anger onto Billy. One night at the Harrington household wasn't going to fix his issues.

Billy wanted his tapes back. Everything was going wrong at once. The only highlight was getting to spend more time with Steve.

He still remembered sitting up close to Steve, their noses touching, Steve’s eyes wide and his cheeks flushed from the marijuana and booze. Billy had never wanted to kiss him more than in that moment.

And holy shit, Billy had been on the verge of telling him he loved him. The words were on his tongue! He nearly said them! There was only one more word left, only the _you_, and then Billy would have told him.

But no. Instead, he was stuck sitting with the nerds and the boy he had nearly confessed his love for only a few hours ago.

Billy sighed, propping his feet up on the closest thing. The closest thing happened to be the curly haired fucker that had interrupted Billy and Steve before. The kid let out a squawk of annoyance and pointedly looked at Steve, who sighed. “Billy, get your feet off of Dustin’s head.”

“Billy, get your feet off Dustin’s head,” Billy mimicked in a stupid voice, pulling his legs up to his chest and resting his chin on his knees.

“Jesus Christ, how old are you?” A pale kid who was holding hands with the curly haired girl sassed. Billy glared at him.

“How old are _you_?” He retorted.

“That comeback sucked,” Max muttered. Billy rolled his eyes. That comeback did suck. But he was tired and fed up with everyone’s bullshit. He just wanted… Well, he wanted to be alone with Steve again.

“Steve, can we have fast food for dinner?” Sinclair asked, inching closer to Max. He had been moving closer for the past hour or so, clearly hoping Billy wouldn't notice. Dumb kid.

“I wish,” Steve replied, standing up and stretching his legs. “But I’m not leaving you alone with Billy.”

“He’s not going to _kill _us!” Max grumbled. Was she seriously getting defensive over Billy or did she just really want McDonald's? Billy was betting on the last one.

“Not for you guys, for him. He’s gonna go insane if I leave him to babysit, right Billy?” Steve glanced over at Billy, who felt his heart skip a beat.

“Yeah, I hate all of you,” Billy grumbled, hugging his legs tighter and trying to focus on the movie.

“We have Ell. Or, or! You could just leave us here alone We’re not going to raise the dead in the time it takes you and Billy to get some food,” Dustin suggested. Steve pursed his lips, doing the contemplating face that Billy found adorable. The kids must have noticed Steve was considering it, because the little fuckers started to run around, grabbing Steve’s jacket, keys, and shoes while one of them wrote down everyone’s orders. Max threw Billy’s leather jacket at Billy, who flipped her off. The little redhead grabbed Billy’s arms and lugged him up, dragging him over to the front door. Behind him, Dustin was patting a babbling Steve’s arm and discreetly pushing him outside.

Billy’s boots and socks were thrown down onto the ground in front of them and the door was slammed in the two boy’s face.

“Did they just kick me out of my own house?” Steve asked, disbelief crossing his face.

“Yeah,” Billy heard himself say. “Yeah, I think they did.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter  
Also I don't even care about the inaccuracy in this, I just liked writing about high/drunk bois


	9. Chapter 9

The two boys sat in the car for a while, listening to Steve’s stupid music before Billy found himself questioning the other boy. “What do you, like, think about gay people?” He asked, desperately hoping his voice didn't give away _too _much.

“Like, my opinion on them?” Steve fiddled with the radio, turning the volume down before he turned to look at Billy.

“Yeah,” The blonde said. “You don't have to answer, I was just wondering--”

“I believe they’re people too,” Steve interrupted. “They deserve to love. And if someone came out to me then I would accept them and hug them. I’d protect them from anyone who tried to hurt them. I’d try and set up dates for them. Because, like, there’s no reason why they cant be treated equally? I know a girl, and she had to move away because people thought she was gay and she got beat up. She was treated so badly that she had to move as far away as possible. She moved to New York. Haven’t heard from her since, but I hope she has a girlfriend now. What about you? What do you think? Billy?”

Billy blinked, shaking his head. He had been staring at Steve dreamily the entire time that he was talking. Shit. “Uh,” He looked out the window. “I dunno. Don't care, I guess. As long as queers don't try to come onto me,” _No, no, come onto me. Come and fuck me. I really need to get over stupid, straight, Steve Harrington. _“So, you know. Don't bloody care.”

Steve smiled, looking away. His eye twinkled, making him look like he knew something Billy didn't. “Are you going to say sorry to the kids?”

“You’ll pay for my car then, right?” Billy replied. A song he didn't like came on and he rolled his eyes.

“Yes. Though, to be honest, I really don't think the kids are scared of you anymore. Did you see Mike sassing you earlier?”

“Mike...” Billy bit his lip. “Weird pale one?”

“Well, yeah, that’s him.”

“I wouldn't call it _sassing_, more just being a little bitch,” Billy grumbled, crossing his arms. When Steve laughed, he felt the corners of his mouth twitching too. God, he was so fucking head over heels for this fucker. He wanted to giggle hysterically and never fucking stop, like the queer he was.

“He’s not that bad. They’re good kids, honestly,” Steve said. He ran his hand through his hair as he looked in the mirror. It hadn't been brushed at all, or styled, and it was actually kind of funny seeing Steve Harrington with messy hair. He usually cared about his hair so much.

“I really need to get my car fixed,” Billy sighed, steering the subject back. “Like, a lot. So, if I apologise to them tonight then will you give me the money tomorrow?”

“Yes,” Steve replied. “Promise. All you have to do is say sorry.”

“Great, I’ve got _so _much to look forward to now. Yay. Saying sorry to those little shits. They’d better not think I’m gonna be carting them around like you do though. I cant stand those nerds. I’m only doing this because I love my car.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Steve started his car. “I’m guessing strawberry milkshake?”

“You know it, Princess.”

<><><><>

After food, all the kids fell asleep on the floor of Steve’s lounge room. Steve sighed as he whispered for Billy to go and grab some blankets and pillow. When the blonde returned, Steve set about tucking the kids in. Ell mumbled and rolled over to press her face into Mike’s neck.

“We’d better go upstairs,” Steve whispered. Billy rolled his eyes, waiting for Steve to turn the TV off before they both tiptoed up the steps. Well, Steve tiptoed. Billy stomped, clearly not caring if he woke up the kids.

“Here’s where you’ll be sleeping, if its alright. There’s blankets in the cupboard if you get cold, if you’re gonna smoke then open the window. Bathroom is right next door. The kids get up early. Will sometimes has nightmares so if you hear something than don't panic. Mike knows how to calm him down. If you need anything then, uh, come and get me. I’m a really light sleeper,” Steve awkwardly laughed. “You need some clothes to sleep in or…?”

“No, its okay. I usually sleep naked,” Billy ran his tongue along his teeth as he stepped into the spare room. Steve rolled his eyes, forcing a laugh, and turned to walk away but he felt a hand on his arm. “Harrington.”

“Yeah?”

“Uh,” Billy was visibly turning red. He let go of Steve’s arm and rubbed the back of his neck, looking down at the ground and scuffing his feet. “Um. Thanks. For letting me and Max stay here tonight. And for the car thing.”

“Its all cool. Its fun to hang out with you,” Steve replied, hoping that wasn't too weird. Holy shit, he was so tempted to tease Billy about his blush, but didn't.

“And,” Billy continued. “Don’t take my thank you’s lightly. Seriously, thank you. I… Wish I had something to repay you with.”

“Its okay, seriously. You said sorry to the kids.”

During dinner Billy had apologised to the kids. It was nothing special, only a small, annoyed grunt of an apology, but it had silenced the entire room. Billy had mumbled something about controlling his anger before he had turned to Steve and hissed something along the lines of “You had better pay them so much they get my car working better than fucking ever.”

The Party had forgiven him after heading out of the room and speaking amongst themselves in hushed whispers. Billy hadn't admitted it, but when the kids came back in and said they had forgiven him Steve saw that the blonde actually looked relieved. The Party told Steve that they still hated Billy though, and had only forgiven him for that particular event, that night, and Steve didn't try to push it.

“Yeah, but,” Billy shook his head, face redder than a tomato. “Whatever. I’m going to bed. Night, Harrington. Hope you die in your sleep,” The blonde slammed the bedroom door in his face and Steve held back laughter.

Steve, as per usual, couldn't get back to sleep. He lied in bed for a while, staring up at the ceiling before getting up and heading downstairs. The kids were asleep, cuddled up to each other. The blankets had fallen off, so Steve put them back on and turned the heater down a little bit. After making himself a cup of tea he headed back upstairs.

He manged to sleep a couple of hours, but when morning finally came he wasn't sorry to get up. The nightmares were becoming worse and worse, now including Billy and. When he woke up he heard shuffling downstairs, and pulled on a hoodie. His first step was to get in the shower and then spend half an hour on his hair. When he got downstairs, he found the kids sitting down at the table. Billy was (rather aggressively) flipping pancakes.

“Can I have maple syrup on mine?” Max asked. She had a fluffy blue blanket wrapped around her shoulders.

“Yeah, I don't fucking care,” Billy grumbled. He picked up a cup of coffee, took a sip, cringed, then drank the rest of it as quickly as possible.

“What time is it?” Steve asked, rubbing his eyes. The kids jumped, while Billy checked his watch.

“Seven,” The blonde answered. “Fucking sit down and eat already.”

Steve ruffled each kid’s head in turn and grabbed a mug. He poured himself some coffee and sat down on top of the bench. “So,” He said to Billy, sipping his coffee with a smirk. “You made breakfast for the kids.”

“Yeah, and? I make breakfast for everyone, like, every fucking day. Don’t be a dumbass, Harrington.”

“Good morning to you too,” Steve rolled his eyes. “You kids ready for school?”

“Hopper is coming to pick me up at seven one-- Seven fifteen,” Ell said. She grinned up at Steve. “Should I get my stuff together?”

“Probably a good idea. Guys, you do the same thing. Grab all your stuff. You have school soon, and so do I. Dustin, no, you’re not having ice cream for breakfast,” Steve grabbed the carton of ice cream from the kid and put it back in the freezer. “Seriously, eat up. We’re leaving soon.”

“You did your hair,” Billy said as they watched the kids running around. Steve reached up and gingerly touched his hair.

“Oh. Yeah, I did. Does it look alright?”

“Yeah,” Billy shrugged. “I guess you look, uh, not like you just crawled out of the grave. Though I still liked how it was yesterday. Fucking everywhere. Was pretty funny.”

Steve rolled his eyes again. “Did you sleep okay?”

“Better than usual. I had a shower this morning too, by the way,” He ran his hand through his own blonde curls. “I look better than you.”

“Shut up, do not.”

Billy chuckled. He pushed himself off the bench he had been leaning off and opened the fridge, taking out a carton of orange juice. After chugging half the bottle, he put it back and tugged a rubber band off his wrist. Steve watched curiously as the blonde messily pulled his hair back, twisting it into a bun. There was a few stray curls hanging out in front of his eyes, so he tucked most of them behind his ear and left one on his forehead. “What?” He asked when he noticed Steve watching. “Am I not allowed to do my hair? Or are you just not used to seeing someone not spending two fucking hours on it?”

“Shut up, asshole,” Steve muttered turning away.

Fuck.

Billy looked really good with his hair tied up like that.

Hopper beeped his horn outside and Ell came into the kitchen to hug Steve goodbye. She waved at Billy, who (surprisingly) tipped his head at her awkwardly, before heading out. Steve waited until the car was out of sight before turning around and hollering for the kids to hurry up. He got incoherent shouts back, which made him laugh.

Billy was putting on his boots and reading the blurb of some book he must have found when Steve found him. The blonde had his eyes narrowed, opening the book to the first page. He mouthed the words, a small smile on his lips.

“You ready to go?” Steve asked, not meaning to scare him. Billy jumped, slamming the book shut. He glared at Steve.

“Give a guy a warning next time, for fucks sake.”

“What were you reading?” Steve stepped into the room.

“I wasn't _reading_, I was just… Looking,” Billy held the book up. “Alice In Wonderland. Read it when I was a kid, so, nostalgia and all that.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah,” Billy set the book down on the shelf. “We gonna go or what, shithead?” He shoved past Steve, stomping out of the room. Steve rolled his eyes, chuckling, and followed him.

The day at school was uneventful. Billy and Steve went their separate ways the moment they arrived at the high school, but when the day was over Steve found Billy and Max waiting by his car. Billy, as expected, had lit a cigarette and was arguing with Max but it didn't look aggressive. Instead, it just looked like a normal brother and sister relationship. Steve approached them, swinging his keys around one finger with an eyebrow raised. Max grabbed the keys, scowling and unlocking the car. She climbed into the backseat, throwing her bag down beside her and crossing her legs. Billy got into the car too, without a word to Steve.

“You guys are so nice,” Steve grumbled as he went around the car to the drivers side. “Not even a hello, just grabbing my keys and getting in. Rude,” He sat down and turned around. “Keys, Mad Max.”

She tossed them at him and he raised his hand to catch them, but Billy turned to look at him and for some reason Billy’s blue eyes made him freeze. The keys flew past his hand and landed at his feet. Face red, he bent down and grabbed them.

Billy muttered something that sounded a little like “Smooth, Harrington,” and stuck his tongue out when Steve glared at him.

“Where are we going?” Max asked when they turned down a road that wasn't the way to either Steve’s or her house.

“Mechanics,” Steve answered. “I told your brother--”

“Step-brother,” The two chorused.

“I told your s_tep_-brother that I would pay to have his car fixed if he said sorry to you guys,” Steve replied.

Max let out a loud “HA!” which made both the boys in the front stare at her. “I knew you wouldn't apologise unless you were bribed,” She explained, death glaring Billy, who shot her his own glare back. Steve sighed. The siblings were so alike.

_Step-siblings_, he reminded himself. “Well, he kept up his part of the deal so I’m paying.”

“Trust me, I was surprised too,” Billy muttered, putting his feet up on the dashboard. “But. Like. Who am I to argue with money, right?”

“Guess so,” Max replied, crossing her arms and slouching. “Of course an asshole like Billy was bribed to say sorry to something that he should have apologised about _weeks _ago!”

“How about you shut your bratty little mouth before I make you?” Billy growled at her.

She snapped her teeth. “Fuck off.”

“Brave words, huh? Only a few months ago you weren't this bitchy--”

Steve shut up their yammering by swerving around a corner and coming to a stop outside the mechanics. “Come on,” He said to Billy. “Max, you okay to stay here?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Both teenage boys got out of the car, heading over to the pair of legs that was underneath a grey ute. “Hey,” Steve said, leaning down. “We’re here to make a payment. The blue camaro, for Billy Hargrove...” Steve trailed off when he realised Billy had disappeared. After a quick glance around he spotted the blonde beside his car, leaning his head on the door and looking strangely calm. “Hargrove!” Steve called. “Are you hugging your car?!”

“No! I’m checking to see if they stole anything!” Billy shouted back, pulling away from his car to tug the door open. He jumped into the passenger seat and began to dig through the glove box. Steve rolled his eyes and turned back to the pair of legs, who had now turned into a full human. The guy stared up at Steve, eyebrows raised.

“Hi,” Steve said, feeling awkward. He offered the guy a hand up and he accepted it. Once they were face to face, Steve continued. “My… Friend, Billy Hargrove’s car broke down and I’m here to pay for it,” He pointed at Billy, who was shoving stuff out of his car into his backpack and occasionally glaring over at Steve. “Don’t mind him, he’s possessive. But, yeah, I need to pay.”

“Your friend seems real attached to that car,” The guy said, speaking slowly. “You sure you wanna pay for it?”

“Yeah. He and I have a deal.”

“Ah. Well, follow me. My boss will talk to you, alright?”

Steve nodded and followed the shaggy haired guy, his hands awkwardly in his pockets.

Meanwhile, Billy grabbed everything he needed from his car (including his emergency flask for when he was in desperate need of cheering up). Once done with that, he gave his car an affectionate pat and closed the door, somewhat softly. He loved his car, really. She was his most favourite thing in the entire world. It fucking sucked that she had to be fixed up.

He headed over to where he could see Steve’s huge hair. He was talking with a man. They shook hands and continued their conversation. “Whats going on?” Billy asked, leaning on Steve’s shoulder. “When is she gonna be fixed?”

“Look, if we order all the parts we need right now then it’ll take roughly three weeks--” The man was interrupted as Billy let out a horrified gasp.

“Three weeks?! You expect me to last that long getting rides from this dumbass?!” He jabbed his thumb at Steve, who sighed.

“There isn't anyway you could get it fixed quicker, right?” Steve pleaded. “I’ll pay extra!”

“Sorry mate, but even three weeks is pushing it. You’ll just have to keep doing what you’re doing, we’ll get back to you if there’s any complications. Is that alright?”

“No, its not--”

“Yes,” Steve interrupted Billy. “Yeah, its fine. Come on, lets go,” Steve grabbed Billy’s arm, but jumped away when Billy winced. “Shit, sorry, I forgot.”

“I cant fucking believe this,” Billy grumbled. “My fucking car. Three weeks! Three weeks of those little fucking nerds and you! Fuck me, fuck you, fuck my _life_!”

“Come on,” Steve sighed. “I’ll drive you home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just needed to tell you all again, I know fuck all about cars.


	10. Chapter 10

Billy stiffened as they approached his house. The night at Steve’s had been fun, full of teasing and listening to the kids laugh and getting high as fuck. But he was being pulled back into reality, and he was lucky that he had been reminding himself all night that his small nightly heaven was only temporary. That he was going right back to Neil. Right back to Hell.

Max thanked Steve for the ride, asking if he could pick them up tomorrow. Billy didn't hear what Steve answered. His ears were ringing. His chest was growing tight. He let out a huff of breath, counted to ten in his head, and got out of the car.

The bruises from the day before were still there, still painful, but he was so used to pain that he had managed to forget it. Hell, he had managed to make everyone else forget it too. It was easy to hide if no one was looking.

But the bruises he had now were nothing compared to what he was going to get when he went inside. He could see Neil now, murderously glaring at Billy through the window.

“Billy!” Someone grabbed his arm and he looked down at the redhead.

“What?”

“Steve was asking something.”

He looked over at Steve, crossing his arms. “What?”

“What time do you want to get picked up? Also I can grab you some smokes tomorrow morning, if you want,” Steve offered him a small smile. He looked like he was pitying Billy. Billy didn't like that.

“Fucking, I dunno, whenever. And yeah, I want some smokes,” Billy answered. He rolled his shoulders, remembering the slip of paper with cop’s number in his pocket. “See you tomorrow, Harrington.”

Max followed him inside. Billy instantly headed to his bedroom, mumbling out a pitiful hello to his father and step-mother. He left the door slightly open, because his Dad hated closed doors and Billy wanted to avoid angering him. After turning the music up loud, but not loud enough to badly disturb the rest of the house, Billy flopped down on his pathetic excuse for a bed.

He stared up at the ceiling, one hand on his stomach and the other tucked behind his head as he listened to the heavy metal. There was no point attempting to do anything except for lay there. His Dad was going to be coming in any minute, and then he knew there would be hell to pay. So instead, he lied on his bed and let his mind wander.

He thought back to earlier this morning. He had gotten up, opening random doors in search of a bathroom. Instead of finding the bathroom Steve had informed him off the night before, he had found Steve’s bedroom. The place was messy, with horrible plaid curtains and hair products all over the vanity. But the most interesting thing was Steve himself.

The boy had been hugging his pillow tightly, mumbling something, and Billy had left instantly. With the eye bags, constant cups of coffee, and mood switches, Billy could easily tell that Steve either had insomnia or just had a fucked up sleeping schedule. Either way, it was good for Steve to be getting some sleep. So he had headed downstairs, and out of instinct had started making breakfast for the brats.

Fuck, Steve had been cute when he was asleep. Ruffled hair, long eyelashes resting against his cheek. Billy had wanted to crawl into bed with him and fall asleep listening to those mumbles.

But he hadn't.

Billy wasn't sure if he was lucky or unlucky that Steve Harrington was straight. It would be great if the guy was gay, yeah, but the chance of Neil finding them in a small town like Hawkins made it so risky. And if Neil found him… Well, Billy would probably be beaten to death.

His bedroom door flew open and Billy instantly sat up, staring up at his father. “So,” Neil said. The temptation for Billy to say “So what, fucker?” Was so tempting, but instead he just stood up and swallowed.

“Did you have fun at your boyfriends house? Huh?”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Billy replied. “He’s just some rich kid who wants to be a good person.”

“Not your boyfriend? You seem to be spending a lot of time with him for him to ‘not be your boyfriend,’” Neil said, pressing one finger to Billy’s chest and pushing him slightly. Billy stumbled, his heel hitting the mattress on the ground.

“He’s not!” Billy insisted. “He’s just in the wrong place at the wrong time!”

“Ah. Like you crying like some fucking pansy? He was just in the wrong place, right? Or him blackmailing me to let you and your sister stay the night at his? Wrong place, wrong time, correct?!”

“I--”

Neil grabbed Billy’s unbuttoned shirt, throwing him up against the cupboard. Billy winced, squeezing his eyes shut as his father pinned him to cupboard, pressing his face mere inches away from Billy’s. “If you and him are fucking, then I’m going to make your life a living fucking hell,” Neil growled. He grabbed Billy’s cheeks, squeezing them tightly. “Got it?”

“Yes _sir_,” Billy insisted. Neil nodded and let him drop to the ground. Billy waited until his father had left before pulling his knees up to his chest and trying to gain control of the tears threatening to spill.

He took the slip of paper out of his pocket and stared at it for a moment, turning the paper around in his hands. Then, he grabbed his lighter and held the flame up to the paper. It caught instantly and started to burn.

He didn't need that shit. He could handle it.

Steve was driving up his driveway when he spotted his parent’s cars sitting outside the garage. Sighing, Steve parked his car and tried to make himself look presentable. He opened the front door, dropping his car keys in the little basket they kept by the door. “I’m home!” He called.

His mother shouted something back, something along the lines of “We missed you, dear!” Which they all knew wasn't true. Steve didn't answer. He instead took his jacket off, hung it beside the door, and walked upstairs to his bedroom.

He grabbed the tapes from underneath his bed, putting on the headphones and leaning his head back to look at the ceiling.

“_Hey, Mum. So. It’s been a while since I talked to you. I’ve been a bit… Busy. I only got out of hospital last week. Yeah. Hospital. Max… She caught me with a guy. We were messing around, like. You know, touching each other and bullshit like that. And Max came home. She ran off and told Dad and he… He beat me up. I had to go to hospital and everything. My wrist is broken. Its gonna heal within a month or two, though. The guy I was with, he isn't talking to me now. Which I guess is for the best, but it still kind of sucks because he was really hot and, fuck, sorry. You probably don't wanna hear that. Though, I guess you cant really hear me at all,” _Steve pressed pause and moved onto his bed. He took the headphones off and set the Walkman carefully down on the chest of draws beside his bed.

He locked his bedroom door and put a cigarette in his mouth. He rarely smoked cigarettes anymore, but he really needed one. Plus, it was only one smoke. Wasn’t going to make a difference.

“Steve!” His mother called upstairs. Sighing, he pulled the lighter away (he hadn't even lit the smoke) and tucked the cigarette back into the packet. His mother called his name again and he threw open his bedroom door, stomping downstairs.

“What?” He asked, crossing his arms.

“Your father and I are going down to New York, to visit your aunt,” His mother explained. Steve parted his lips, trying not to look sad.

“But, uh,” He failed. He could tell he must have looked like a kicked puppy. “But you guys literally just got here. You’re leaving so soon?”

“She’s sick, Steven,” His father said. “We’ll be back next week. _No parties_,” He added, scowling. Steve rolled his eyes.

Like he had enough friends to throw a proper party. Besides, after the Upside-Down the whole partying thing had become so… Useless. King Steve was gone. Now, he was just a babysitter that wanted to help an aggressive boy named Billy who snapped when people got too close to him. So no, parties weren't exactly the first thing on his mind.

“There’s plenty of food in the fridge, so you can make yourself a nice dinner,” His mother continued. “Eat something other than fast food and popcorn, wont you, sweetie?”

Steve wanted to scream at her. _You never taught me how to cook! All you ever fucking do is leave! I was raised by nannies and then I was abandoned! By_ everyone_!_ Instead of shouting all the things in his mind, instead of punching his father in the face, Steve nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

He walked his parents to the door, waving goodbye. Once he locked the door, he swore and stomped to the kitchen to make himself some popcorn. It wasn't much, but defying their orders made him feel a little better. When he sat down on the couch with the tapes, a bowl of popcorn on his lap and the TV playing quietly in the background, he felt a lot better.

“_Anyway, we’re moving, Mum. Next month. To the middle of fucking nowhere. All because of Maxine, going running back to my Dad and acting like she’s some hero for ratting me out. Fuck, I hate her. I really hate her. I hate her, I hate Susan, I hate Dad, and… I think I hate myself, Mum. I think I hate myself most of all. Sure, I’m hot. Like, I’m attractive and all that, but I’m fucked up. I’m a piece of shit. Why the _fuck _cant I be normal? I want to like girls, I do, but I don't. I think I was just built this way. Whatever. Doesn’t matter now. There’s not gonna be anyone to mess around with wherever we’re going anyway. I think that’s the whole point of it. I’ve got to go soon, because Dad wants me to make dinner. Don't know how the fuck he expects me to do that with a broken fucking arm, the dumbass,” _Billy was silent for a long time, and Steve went to take the tape out, thinking that maybe Billy had forgotten to turn the thing off, but the boy started to speak again. He sounded like he was crying. _“I’m sorry, Mamma. I’m so sorry that I’m like this. I’m so fucking sorry.”_

With a click, the recording finally ended. Steve set his popcorn and the tape down on the table and hugged a pillow to his chest.

“Fuck,” He whispered. “Fuck, Billy, why the fuck do you have to go through this?”

For a moment, he nearly forgot that Billy was supposed to be his worst enemy.

<><><><>

Billy was strangely quiet when Steve picked him and Max up the next day. He claimed the front seat, meaning Dustin had to sit in the back (there was a lot of complaining and nothing but scowls from Billy), and accepted the cigarettes without so much as a thank you. Though that was normal. The blonde had clearly made an effort to look good though. Leather jacket, tight jeans, white shirt. He looked great, actually. But Steve could see the bruise over his eye. He could see the way Billy would shift positions, quietly wincing. The guy had grown so good at hiding his bruises that it was almost impossible to see that he was hurt unless you were looking for it.

Steve dropped the kids off with the promise of picking them up after school, but dropped his smile the moment he and Billy were alone in the car. He leaned over, tilting up Billy’s chin. “Where did he hurt you?” He asked quietly.

Billy rolled his eyes. “He didn't hurt me.”

“Where did he hurt you?” Steve repeated firmly, pulling away.

“Stop,” Billy growled, but it sounded soft. “He didn't hurt me. I’m telling the truth. He just yelled for a while.”

Steve fell silent, driving to his usual parking spot and turning his car off. “Are you ever going to report him?” He asked when Billy opened the car door.

“There’s nothing to report,” The blonde stepped out, slamming the door shut. Steve sighed, doing the same thing, just a little less aggressively, and watched as Billy stomped away.

“Steve,” A voice said from behind him, and he turned around, coming face to face with Nancy. Jonathan was behind her. She offered Steve a small smile. “I… Can we talk?”

“You have class.”

“Lets talk,” She said, a little more strictly as she wrapped her fingers around his arm and began to pull him towards the school.

Jonathan led them into some weird dark room with photos hanging up around the wall and closed the door behind them. Nancy leaned against the wall, crossing her arms. The red light of the room made her look almost scary. “So Billy stayed at your house last night?” She asked, pursing her lips. She looked disappointed. Of course she was disappointed. Everyone was disappointed in Steve.

“Yeah,” He answered. “He and Max needed a place to stay because their Dad was angry, and I thought, fuck, why not? Its not like he _did _anything, Nance. We just hung out with the kids, drank a little, smoked a bit of weed. Just a bit of fun. Nothing I haven't done with you guys.”

“So he’s your friend?” Nancy asked, glancing up at Jonathan. They shared a look. Yeah, they were both disappointed.

“He’s not my friend, we just… I give him rides to school because his car is broken down. And he’s fun to hang out with. Seriously, if you just got to_ know _him then I think you’d like him.”

“But why?” Nancy asked. “Why are you helping him? And don't give me that stuff about Max and Dustin being friends. Seriously. _Why _did you let him stay?”

“Because his Dad abuses him, okay?!” Steve blurted out. The two went silent, confused almost, and Steve realised in horror what he had just said. He let out a shaky breath. “Don’t you dare let him know I told you. I swear to fucking god, guys, I’m actually not kidding here. He cant know you guys know.”

“Abuse…?” Jonathan murmured. “His Dad hits him?”

“Yes. Sometimes its really bad. You should see his arms, they’re covered in bruises, I just...” Steve rubbed his face, shaking his head. “No one deserves to go through that. Jonathan, you should relate to that, right? And Nancy, you can probably relate to the family trying to be perfect part. Basically, what I’m saying is he’s just… He’s got a really fucked up life, alright? And… Shit, you guys really cant tell _anyone_!”

“We wont,” Jonathan said at the same time Nancy shrieked “Why don't you tell the police if you know all of this?!”

“Thanks,” Steve answered Jonathan before turning to Nancy. “I’ve _tried_ to get him to go to them. But he probably has a bad history with cops or something, because he only puts up his walls and tells me to stop. So… Nance, you have to promise not to tell anyone. Not even the police. Okay?”

“Okay,” She agreed, her blue eyes wide. “But I still think the police could help.”

“Me too,” Steve muttered. “Me fucking too, Nance.”

The bell rang then, signalling it was time for them to head to class. Steve headed out to his car, drove to a diner nearby, and bought two milkshakes. One strawberry and one chocolate.

Billy was sitting outside on the benches with a couple of the guys from their basketball team when Steve found them. The boy seemed to have some weird obsession with keeping his feet off the ground, because he had them on a wall. A _wall_. His back was to the table, his feet pressed up against a fucking wall, and a cigarette between his lips. Steve rolled his eyes at the blonde’s weird way of sitting and headed over. He ignored all the others, just as he had last time, and cleared his throat.

“What do you want, Harrington?” Billy asked without turning around.

“How’d you know it was me? Memorised my voice, have you?”

“No, actually, I can smell the loneliness on you,” The blonde flicked his cigarette away and received a few sniggers from the other guys from his comment. “What do you want?”

“Ah. So you’ve memorised my smell instead. Not much better, Hargrove. Anyway, bought you a milkshake.”

Billy instantly perked up, turning around and sitting properly at the table. Steve put the milkshake in front of him, grinning as he drank from his own (he’d forgotten to grab another straw). “What flavour?” Billy asked suspiciously, picking it up. Steve’s smile must have answered his question, because he stuck the straw in his mouth and began to drink greedily. “You may sit, Harrington,” Billy said solemnly, like he was doing Steve a huge favour, and commanded someone else to move so Steve could take the seat next to him.

“You two seem to be pretty close,” Tommy remarked.

“He buys me stuff,” Billy answered. “Food, milkshakes, smokes. Its great. That’s why I hang out with him.”

“So he’s like your sugar daddy,” Someone joked, and the group laughed but stopped when Billy growled.

“No,” Billy snapped. “Not like that. You wanna get your fucking face punched in, Lee? No? Didn't fucking think so. Now shut the fuck up.”

Steve raised his eyebrows, silently drinking his milkshake. The table, now filled with tension, was silent as well. Billy looked satisfied, finishing his milkshake in record time and burped loudly. “Thanks for that shake, Harrington. You gonna get me another one later?”

“Yeah,” Steve sighed, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, I’ll get you another after school.”

“Cool,” Billy picked up the now empty cup and tossed it in the rubbish bin. He then resumed his position with his back to the table and feet against the wall. He lit himself another cigarette and the table fell into a peaceful chatter.

Hell, the other guys even included Steve in their conversation.

For the first time in a while, Steve felt normal again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so fucking tired.


	11. Chapter 11

Billy had tried a lot of coping mechanisms to deal with his anger in the past. Yoga, meditation, deep breaths, punching bags, screaming into his pillow. But none of them were the same as actually taking out his anger on the person who really deserved it.

Neil Hargrove had fucked up his life.

He was the one person that Billy couldn't hurt.

And the only person Billy really, truly wanted to hurt.

Instead of beating the shit out of his father, Billy took his anger out on people who annoyed him. Today, it was some kid who thought he could trip Billy up in the hallway and get away with it. Billy stuffed the guy into a rubbish bin and rolled him down the hallway, smirking as he walked away. The bell rang and Billy stood out in the crowd of students, his arms crossed. They parted like a sea for him.

It was great.

Billy found Steve talking with the Wheeler bitch and school freak, and shoved Steve’s shoulder roughly as a greeting. “Want another milkshake,” He said. “We gotta go now though, I’m pretty sure the teachers are looking for me.”

“What did you do?” Steve asked, sighing.

“None of your business. Come on, Harrington, don't be a killjoy and fucking buy me a shake.”

“You’re so nice to me,” Steve grumbled under his breath. He said his goodbyes to his friends and walked with Billy out to the car. Billy got into the front seat, lighting a cigarette as they waited for Max and one of Steve’s little nerd friends to come out of the school.

“You’re gonna be okay?” Steve murmured as Billy started to get out of the car when they arrived at Billy’s house. Billy rolled his eyes.

“Fuck off, Harrington,” He answered. “I already told you, I don't need your help.”

When Steve’s mouth tilted downward into a little frown, Billy annoyingly felt bad. “Besides,” He added, a little quieter. “My Dad is going out tonight and wont be back until Saturday. So I’ll be fine. Don't you worry your pretty little head about it.”

Steve smiled then (which made Billy want to smile too), rolling his eyes. “I’ll pick you and Max up for school tomorrow then.”

“Yeah, and don't you forget it,” Billy said. He looked over at Max, who seemed rather annoyed to be getting out of Steve’s car. “Come on shit bird. I get that Harrington has the nice leather seats but you’re not living in his car. Also, Susan said you needed to clean your room.”

“Can you do me a favour?” Max asked Steve, glancing up at Billy worriedly before she continued speaking. “Because, uh, Lucas asked me if I wanted to hang out with him tomorrow and it might take a while, and… I don't want Billy around.”

“I’m right here,” Billy grumbled.

“Ah, a date,” Steve smirked. “Yeah, don't worry. I’ll pick you up, take you to school, and then me and Billy will do something else while we wait for you. You can meet us at the school carpark at… Is six okay?”

“Yeah!”

“Hang the fuck on, guys,” Billy held up a finger. “What the fuck, Harrington? You cant just send Maxine off on a date right in front of me. I’m not putting up with a crying fucking baby if she gets pregnant.”

“She’s not gonna get pregnant, because they’re not going to fuck,” Steve said as Max went red and glared at Billy. “Seriously, its okay. We’ll just hang out at my place for a while. Maybe get high. Dunno. Depends how we feel.”

Steve _did _have good weed. Where he got it, Billy didn't know. He’d been in Hawkins for a while now and he still hadn't managed to find a good dealer.

“Fine,” Billy muttered, not only surprising Steve and Max, but himself as well. “But if Max gets pregnant, I’m moving in with you, Harrington. I’m not putting up with a whiny little shit as well as Maxine’s baby.”

“I’m _not _a whiny little--”

“Deal,” Steve smirked. Max rolled her eyes, getting out of the car and glaring at Billy. He suddenly noticed she’d become taller. In fact, they were nearly eye to eye.

Well. Shit. Billy thought about the boots in his cupboard, with a discreet heel that made him look taller, and made a mental note to wear them until he could chop off the bitches legs.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Billy grumbled as Max kept glaring at him. “I’m making your dinner you know. I could fucking spit in it.”

“Well, don't be an asshole and maybe I’ll stop glaring at you,” With that, she turned and stomped towards the house. Billy rolled his eyes. When did _she _so confident? Probably since she threatened him with a nail bat.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then?” Steve asked, interrupting Billy’s thoughts.

“Yeah,” Billy said. “Yeah, see you.”

He waited until he could no longer see Steve’s car before he turned and headed inside.

Neil was on his way out when Billy finally came out of his room. He murmured a quiet goodbye, promising to make dinner for himself and Maxine, and waited until they were gone. Now with Susan and Neil out of the way, Billy turned his music up as loud as possible and started to smoke in the house. Max stayed in her bedroom, but Billy made sure to check on her every hour or so to make sure she didn't run away. Again.

Once dinner was made (just a salad, nothing special) Billy cracked open a can of beer and chugged it. Max rolled her eyes, heading back to her room, but she stopped when Billy called her name. “What?” She asked, turning around.

“Seriously, Maxine,” Billy said, leaning against the wall. “Don’t get pregnant tomorrow on your date with Sinclair.”

“I, unlike you, am not a whore,” Max shot back. She went back to her bedroom and Billy held his middle finger to the closed door.

Since Neil wasn't home, Billy didn't have to be in bed by eleven, which meant he stayed up until three in the morning watching movies and getting tipsy. He knew he shouldn't get _too _drunk, since he didn't want to be hungover the next day.

He got too drunk and passed out on the couch, a bottle hanging from his hand. When he woke up, there was talking around him and even though he still had his eyes closed, the sun was too bright.

“Close the curtains,” He groaned. “Be quiet too.”

“Its time for school,” A familiar voice said, and Billy’s eyes flew open. Steve Harrington was leaning over him, his eyebrows raised in an amusement and three kids gathered around him; the curly haired one, Sinclair, and Max.

“The fuck are you doing here, Harrington?” Billy asked, covering his eyes and trying to gain control of his thumping head. Drinking so much had been a bad idea.

“He’s alive,” Sinclair said, sounding both relieved and scared at the same time. “And not possessed.”

“I told you he was just drunk,” Max replied. “He was drinking last night.”

Billy opened his mouth to speak but he instead pushed himself up and rushed to the bathroom. Footsteps followed him, and he heard Steve asking if he was okay, but he stopped speaking when Billy fell to his knees and retched in the toilets.

“Ew,” Curly said, and Billy flipped him his middle finger.

“Am fucking hangover,” He mumbled. “A nerd like you wouldn't get it.”

“Actually, we covered the effects of drinking when we were in class so--”

“Dustin, shut the fuck up,” Steve snapped. “Max, go get Billy some water and… You guys got any painkillers here?”

“Yeah,” She rushed off. The echoing footsteps made Billy’s head throb again and he groaned, slumping against the wall beside the toilet. He muttered swears underneath his breath until Max returned with a glass and some white pills in her hand. She set them down on the floor in front of him and he scowled.

“Anyone ever told you its unsanitary to eat things off the floor?” He grumbled as he put the pills in his mouth and washed them down with water.

“Anyone ever told you you’re a pig? I think you can handle it,” She shot back.

“_Get the fuck out of the fucking bathroom_!” Billy shouted at her, grabbing the closest thing (a towel) and tossing it at her. The kids scurried out, leaving him alone with Steve.

“Are you okay?” Steve asked, approaching him cautiously.

“Does it look like I’m okay?” Billy snapped. “I’m fucking hungover! Get _out_!”

“Are you skipping class today?”

“Yes! Fuck-- Fuck yes I am! Get out, Harrington! Let me fucking sleep!”

“I’ll be back soon,” Steve answered.

“You had better bring me coffee!” Billy shouted after him despite his headache. “And breakfast! You little fucking bitch, Harrington! _Breakfast_!”

Once they had left, Billy crawled onto his mattress and pulled the covers over his head after placing a bucket down on the ground beside him. He slept for a long while, and when he woke up he could hear something out in the lounge room. Had he left the TV on?

He suddenly remembered that Steve had told him he would come back, so Billy pulled on a shirt and some shorts and opened his bedroom door. Steve glanced up. “Hi,” He said, smiling. “I brought you coffee, like you wanted, but I think its cold now. There’s also pancakes in that box. I went to a diner.”

Billy chugged the coffee, ripped the box open, and started scoffing down the pancakes without even thinking. He flopped down on the couch beside Steve and put his feet on the coffee table. “I’m not gonna thank you.”

“Fuck. Yeah, I sort of guessed.”

Billy leaned his head on the couch when he finished his pancakes, and watched Steve watch TV. They were playing some dumb reruns of a show he’d never seen. It gave him plenty of time to memorise Steve’s face… Even though he already had.

He looked like he had soft lips. He definitely had soft lips. He was probably great at kissing. They were pink, and shiny. How the fuck did Steve get everything about him fucking _shiny_? Eyes, lips, hair. Shiny. Steve just sparkled. He lit up the night with his smile and sparkling brown eyes. Billy just wanted to… Fuck, he just wanted to kiss Steve until he was breathless.

And damn, Steve looked tired again. Fuck, Billy hated it when Steve was struggling to sleep. It made him look older than he actually was, and of course Steve was still pretty, he was always pretty, but stress didn't look good on him. The temptation to just, like, knock Steve really hard on the head and make him pass out just so the guy could get some sleep.

“You haven't been sleeping,” He murmured out loud without thinking. Steve glanced over at him, blinking curiously.

“Huh?”

_Shit._

“I said, uh,” Billy sat up straighter, squirming uncomfortably. “I said, you haven't been sleeping. You look like shit with eye bags.”

Steve narrowed his eyes. “Okay, jeez,” He muttered. “You don't need to be so rude about it. Its not my fault. You try sleeping in a cold empty house with the nightmares I...” He trailed off, crossed his arms, and slouched.

“Fuck it, I’m gonna go,” He stood up, grabbing his jacket from the chair.

“Fine. Leave. See if I fucking care. You’re always so fucking sensitive!” Billy shouted after him. He listened to the front door slam and was silent for a few seconds before he jumped up and followed Steve outside. “Wait, Harrington.”

“What, Billy?” Steve looked a thousand times tireder when he said that.

“Um. Why do you have nightmares?”

“Why do you have panic attacks?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“Well, there’s your answer,” Steve got into his car and started the engine. Billy jumped in as well, closing the door behind him. “What are you doing?” Steve asked with a sigh.

“Coming with you. When was the last time you got some sleep, seriously.”

Steve shrugged. “How the hell are you supposed to help me sleep?”

_I’ll make you cum so hard you fucking pass out, bitch. _“I dunno. You cant sleep because the house is empty, right? Well, I’ll be downstairs. I’ll watch TV or something, like you did with me.”

The older boy was silent, and for a second Billy was sure he had overstepped. But whatever. So be it. He was Billy fucking Hargrove. He always overstepped.

“You’d do that?” Steve asked, turning to look at Billy. “Thanks… Really.”

“Don’t make it weird, Harrington. Besides, I wanna try out your TV without having to tell the nerd-lings to shut up every ten seconds. Also, my hangover is almost gone, so. ‘S all good.”

So here Billy was now, sitting on the sofa with his eyes glued to the TV screen as Steve was curled up on the couch beside him. The other boy had made himself into a cocoon of blankets and pillows. It was… Really cute actually. He wasn't asleep yet, but Billy was sure he would be soon.

“This doesn't feel any different,” Steve murmured suddenly. “Can you do me a favour, Hargrove?”

“I’m already sitting here,” Billy grumbled. “What more do you want?”

“Can you… Look, never mind, its dumb. Sorry for mentioning it.”

“Wait,” Billy leaned forward. “What is it? Cant be _that _dumb. Come on, tell me,” He pressed. “You want tea or something? Fucking, I dunno, what?”

“When I was a kid,” Steve started, and Billy silently sighed. _Well, shit_. “When I was a kid, my babysitter, aka my nanny, used to tell me a story. And I’m not saying I want to you tell me a story!” He added when Billy opened his mouth to speak. “I’m just saying that, like, could you talk for a while? About anything?”

“Yeah,” Billy answered. “Yeah, okay. But only because you look like shit when you’re tired, and how are you supposed to get over that Wheeler bitch if the Hawkins cows wont talk to you?”

Steve grumbled something and burrowed further into the blankets. Billy grabbed one of the ones off the top (a sleek blue sheet, it wasn't even warm, why the fuck did Steve keep it if it wasn't fucking _warm_) and wrapped it around himself. “Okay, okay. Uh.”

Billy was great at telling stories. It had always been a talent of his. Lies, stories, words thrown together in a way that could entertain the people he was talking with for hours. And if it had been anyone else, Billy would probably be talking about Cali, about the girls there, about the guy who lived next door to them and had a pet dog that was so huge if it stood on its hind legs it was probably taller than Billy. But Steve wasn't just anyone. He was the only one who made Billy feel _flustered_.

And usually he was okay with people he liked. Flirt a little, some winking, look at them like they’re the moon. But that didn't work with Steve? Billy used to be able to do it. He could wink at Steve and flirt with him, even call him pet names without stammering at all. Now? He couldn't. Now he was sitting here, Steve curled up underneath some blankets in front of him, waiting to speak, and he didn't know what to _say_.

The point was, Billy didn't want to tell Steve one of the stories people had heard a billion times.

Steve was special.

So he started to speak from the heart. His heart was usually a cold place, surrounded by walls. Billy usually kept his true emotions locked tightly in there. But since he started hanging out with Steve, since had had that fucking panic attack, it was like it had opened a Steve Harrington shaped gate in his heart. With the hair and all.

“When I was a kid,” He started, his heart thumping loudly in his ears. “I used to sneak out of the house and skateboard to one of the abandoned buildings in the city. I actually taught Max how to skateboard, did you know that? Anyway, I would break into the building, climb up to the top, and watch the stars with a cigarette. Some booze, maybe some weed. Stars are so pretty, you know? Always sparkling, shining down on us. They’re always there. Sometimes they hide from us, sometimes there are millions and sometimes you can only see one, but they’re always there. Behind the clouds. My Mum… She was really interested in the universe. She was the one who first took me to the top of a building to watch them. But when she… Left, I was alone. I started scaling buildings that were higher, and fucking _way _more dangerous. All to see the stars. All to look at those pretty little sparkles, I would risk my life climbing up the sides of buildings.

“I nearly got caught before, too! I was fourteen, and this security guard dude shone his torch at me and was like, hey, what are you doing, so I ran. I jumped off the side of the building, and I landed on the fire escape. I heard the guy shouting again, so you know what I did? I fucking hung from the bottom of the railings, where he couldn't see me. Its still one of my proudest moments, actually. Felt like Spiderman. Was great.

“But, the thing is, I then sort of realised that shit, I don't think I can hang here forever. My arms are already starting to hurt and that dude is shining his torch at the fire escape, and he’s saying something like hey where did you go. So, so, I use one hand to hang and the other to grab my pack of smokes. I chuck the smokes up in the air, and they land near the guy. Once he was distracted, I dropped down and started running as fast as I fucking could. It was only once I was, like, ten miles away I realised I could have used the stairs. It was hilarious, Harrington. Of course I didn't think to use the bloody stairs. Nah, man, instead I hung underneath and used them like monkey bars.”

Steve let out a small snuffle and Billy smiled. “You asleep, Harrington?” He asked quietly. He didn't get a reply, so he assumed that yeah, Steve had fallen asleep.

Billy decided to let the other boy sleep for a while. He watched TV for about an hour before he got bored and robbed Steve’s kitchen, making himself a sandwich. He started exploring the rich boy’s house. He was pretty sure the guy’s pool had a fucking heater. Yeah, he was definitely gonna swim in there at one point.

He left Steve’s bedroom and his parent’s bedroom untouched, but discovered in amusement that Steve had basically claimed the entire house as his own. His stuff was _everywhere_, yet somehow it was still tidy. Did he have a maid or something? Probably.

In the bathroom, the one Billy had used last time, hair products were scattered over the counter. He wasn't sure why Steve would use _this _bathroom. Billy knew for a fact that Steve had one attached to his bedroom, and he was willing to bet it was nicer too. Though, maybe Steve’s hair products had filled up the entire bathroom and now he couldn't use it. That sounded plausible. Billy chuckled to himself and continued to search the rest of the house.

Lining the walls of one of the lounge rooms, the one that Billy had noticed Steve didn't use that often, were photos of Steve and who Billy guessed were his parents. In one section there was five pictures of Steve holding hands with an older woman, smiling. She was probably the babysitter that Steve had been talking about earlier.

He found some of Steve’s Halloween outfit and held back laughter. Steve Harrington had gone as a spider when he was ten. That was cute.

The doorbell ringing made Billy turn around, staring at the front door with wide eyes. He had no idea if he was supposed to answer it or not. Instead, he decided to move behind on of the doorways so no one could see him. He wasn't_ hiding_, thank you very much. He just didn't want to answer the door. Luckily, the doorbell must have woken Steve up, because the other boy came wandering down the hallway and to the front door.

“Hey,” A girl’s voice said when Steve opened it. “Can we come in?”

“Nance?” Steve murmured, clearly still tired. Billy rolled his eyes. Fucking Nancy Wheeler. “What are you doing here? I was sleeping.”

“We’ve been thinking,” _Is that the Byers freak too? Fucking hell. _“And we’ve decided that if someone anonymously reported to the police about B--”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Steve interrupted. His voice was high pitched when he spoke next. “Uh. You guys want to come in? I have Billy here right now. Just. Uh. Billy is here. Billy. Billy Hargrove.”

_He’s so fucking awkward. Its so cute._

At that, Billy stepped out from behind the doorway and raised an eyebrow at them. “Who are you ‘anonymously reporting’ to the cops?”

“Never you mind,” Nancy replied after a moment of baffled silence. “What are you doing here?”

“Lets, just like, not talk about that right now. We’ll talk later. You guys want some food?” Steve held the door open wider, gesturing for them to come inside. “I think there’s some beer in the fridge, too. I’ll check.”

“Thanks,” Jonathan and Nancy both stepped inside, their hands linked together. Steve closed the door behind them and jerked his head at the lounge room, looking at Billy. Billy sighed, following the other two into the lounge and flopping on the couch. He stared at the TV, pointedly ignoring them as they exchanged looks.

“We have beer,” Steve said as he entered the room with a smile and his face flushed. “I had to move like, a million boxes to find it, but we have beer. I forgot I hid it from my Dad though, so they’re not cold. I put some in the fridge. You guys don't mind waiting, do you?”

And damn, Billy liked Steve a _lot_, but he was making Billy cringe. He seemed so damn desperate for friends. Billy wanted to take Steve by the hand, tell him to calm down, and cuddle with him on the couch.

“So,” Billy said, looking over at Nancy and Jonathan as he lit himself a smoke. “What do you guys want?”

Before Wheeler could say anything, Jonathan spoke up. “Nasty black eye you have there,” He said, scratching his neck awkwardly. “And there’s bruises all over your arms.”

“Yeah, got into a fight. Whats it to you, Byers?”

“Its just. I dunno. You get into a lot of fights.”

Jonathan raised his eyebrows and Billy narrowed his eyes, sitting up. He gritted his teeth and glared around at them all. “Yeah? So fucking what? What are you implying, _f__reak_?”

“Guys,” Steve interrupted. “We can talk later, okay?” There was a forced smile on his face as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Uh. I’m not really in the mood for warm beer, and its gonna be a while before they’re cold, so you guys want to go and get something to eat? Or...” He looked at Billy slyly. “Or maybe a milkshake?”

Billy instantly calmed down, sitting up. “You gonna pay for me, Harrington?”

“If you stop being a little shit, then yeah, I will,” He smiled. “Jonathan? Nancy? You coming with?”

“Yeah, okay,” They both stood up, following Steve and Billy out the front door.

When Billy arrived home he felt lighter than usual. He switched the light on, finding Maxine and Lucas cuddling in front of the TV. They jumped apart when Billy entered.

“Oh god,” Lucas said, his eyes wide. “We, uh, this… Its…”

“Get out, Sinclair,” Billy replied, jerking his head at the door. Lucas nodded, jumping up and gathering his stuff together. Once he was gone, Billy raised his eyebrow at his step-sister. She raised an eyebrow back, and he rolled his eyes before heading over to his bedroom and closing the door behind him.

He was pretty sure he fell asleep smiling.


	12. Chapter 12

Steve and Billy fell into a comfortable routine. Steve picked him and Max up every morning, dropped them off every afternoon. If Steve bought a milkshake over to Billy during school hours, Billy would tell him to sit down. Billy stayed out of Neil’s way, only getting hit one more time over the next two weeks, and even then, it wasn't that bad. Steve didn't listen to anymore of Billy’s tapes, he didn't give them back either, but he didn't listen to them. Instead, he kept them stuffed underneath his bed.

The boys began to develop a rocky friendship. Well, they were more like close acquaintances. It was easier to hang out with Billy Hargrove, who was _supposed _to be his worst enemy, than it was with Nancy and Jonathan. It wasn't that Steve really had feelings for Nancy anymore, but he hated looking like a third wheel. Made him feel pathetic.

So whenever Nancy and Jonathan got too lovesick, Steve would instead move to sit with Billy and the rest of the basketball team. The basketball team didn't exactly pick on him anymore, but there was definitely still a lot of tension between Steve and Tommy. Most of the time, they ignored each other, and that was okay.

Every second Saturday there was a dinner at Joyce’s. Billy refused to come with Steve and the kids, insisting that they ‘weren't friends’ and that he ‘didn't want to spend his Saturday at a sucky dinner with nerds.’ He probably could have worded it kinder, but this was Billy Hargrove. He was honest and blunt. Hell, maybe Steve liked that about him. Billy was one of the only people who didn't treat people who had had a tough time like they were fragile beings. He treated Steve like a human, and in exchange Steve did the same for him.

Billy’s car was nearly fixed. In fact, they were going to the mechanics after school in a few hours to pick it up. Steve noticed that Billy seemed jittery and happy. He had been like that for a while now, but maybe the thought of his car coming back was making him even happier. Or maybe he was just happy he wasn't going to have to catch rides from Steve anymore.

Steve was almost sad. He wasn't sure why. There was going to be less people in his car, less drives, and hell, less Billy Hargrove. But the thought of things going back to how they used to be saddened him. Billy could get his own milkshakes, meaning that Steve had no free pass to sit with him anymore. Billy could drive himself to school, meaning that Steve’s car would no longer smell like Billy. And Billy had no reason to speak with Steve now, because he didn't need a ride anywhere and obviously didn't want to spend his time with Steve anyway.

So, though it was nice to see Billy happy, it also made Steve sigh heavily as he watched the blonde joke around in class. He threw pencils at the teacher, muttered things under his breath that made everyone giggle, hit on girls, and laughed loudly when someone said something funny. And yeah, Steve was noticing that Billy was actually really hot when he was happy. He would throw his head back, staring up at the ceiling, and laughed incredibly loudly. It was a nice sound. But, Steve couldn't help but feel smug, because he had heard a different laugh from Billy that the others hadn't. Because when Billy _really _laughed, it was quiet. He giggled, almost. His eyes were filled with nothing but joy, and he would instantly try to cover up his laughter with a cough or a cigarette.

He found himself studying Billy’s face, staring at his long eyelashes, pink lips, and _oh god, his eyes_. Steve could stare at Billy’s eyes for hours. Beautiful blue, bright, but hiding so much. He was such a mystery to everyone, no one knew who he really was.

Except for Steve.

Because Steve had taken something of Billy’s. No, he hadn't taken, he had _found_. He had found the place where Billy locked up his real emotions, his past. It was like the Billy that everyone knew was a clone. Inside, he was dying. He was drowning. He had been ever since… Well, Steve didn't know. How long had he been falling apart? The tapes could only tell so much.

“Mr Harrington,” A voice said, and Steve realised in alarm that the entire class was staring at him. Including Billy. Billy had caught him staring. Wait, why had Steve been staring in the first place?

“What?” Steve heard himself say, pulling his eyes away from Billy’s bright blue ones to look up at the teacher. “Sorry, what?”

“You seem to be stuck in dreamland again, Steven,” The teacher, an asshole called Mr Cane who Steve had known since freshmen year, was leaning down in front of Steve. The entire class was silent, listening to what the teacher had to say. “You’re so close to graduation. Its time you pulled your head out of the clouds and focused on your schoolwork, otherwise you’ll end up working at McDonald’s and relying on your rich parents for the rest of your life.”

Steve felt himself go red as the class sniggered. He gritted his teeth, leaning back in his chair and staring up at his teacher. “I know,” He muttered, rolling his eyes.

“I’m trying to help you, Steven--”

“Well, maybe you could actually teach the fucking class instead of annoying me!” Steve snapped. “Fucking hell, man, were you always this annoying or did you just decide to pick on me because I actually have hair and you don't?”

The class went silent, all except for Billy, who burst out laughing. He smirked, attempting to silence himself when Mr Cane glared at him. The teacher looked back down at Steve, his eyes narrowed. “Detention, Mr Harrington. You can clean up the gum under the desks after school. Oh, and by the way, this isn't about your _hair_.”

“Asshole,” Steve muttered when Mr Cane turned away.

“I heard that!”

Steve rolled his eyes, slouching in his seat and glaring out the window. He tried his best to focus on what the teacher was saying, but it was hard when Billy was fumbling around with his backpack in the seat in front of him. The blonde nudged Tommy, whispered something in his ear, and Tommy nodded. A few moments later, Tommy asked to go to the bathroom. Billy pushed something into Tommy’s hand and smirked as he walked out.

_What are they doing?_

Tommy was obviously hiding something in his jacket when he returned, and also walking carefully. He took his seat beside Billy, pulling his hand out of his jacket and handing Billy a… A blue water balloon.

Billy stood up, grinning around at the class and pulling his arm back to throw. The balloon landed directly on Mr Cane’s head, causing the entire class to cry with laughter.

“Detention, Hargrove!” The teacher screamed, water dripping down his face. “You can join Harrington after school! I hope you’re proud of yourself!”

“Oh, I am, sir,” Billy purred. “By the way, I don't know if you’ve noticed this, but your white shirt is sticking to your chest. Aka, we can all see your nips. Oh no.”

The class roared with laughter again.

Mr Cane ordered one of the preppy girls who sat in the front to keep an eye on the class while he went to go and change his shirt, and left with the promise of dealing with Billy when he returned. Now without the teacher, the students began to move around to talk with their friends. Billy walked over and sat on top of Steve’s desk, smirking as Steve gaped up at him.

“You… Did you just… Really…?”

“Yeah, it was pretty funny. He was being an ass, he totally had it coming. Plus, did you see his face?” Billy laughed, revealing his perfect white teeth.

“But… But we were going to pick your car up today! The mechanics close at five!”

“Yeah. We can pick it up tomorrow. We’ll just have some fun tonight.”

“In detention?”

“Yeah, in detention,” Billy answered, leaning on his elbow and gazing down at Steve. And… Damn. Did Billy actually have a soft smile on his face? He was looking down at Steve like he’d just fucking saved a puppy or something.

“We’re pulling gum off the bottom of desks!” Steve called as the blonde got up began to walk back to his own desk. “How the fuck is that going to be fun?!”

“Shh, Harrington, don't question me. Just shut up and… Do whatever a loser like you does.”

“Mm, funny,” Steve rolled his eyes. Like Billy hadn't been hanging out with him a lot for the past two weeks.

“Yeah, I thought so.”

<><><><>

Steve dragged his feet through the school hallways and to the classroom that the principle had told him to go to. When he pulled open the door, Billy was already sitting on the floor beside one of the upturned desks. He had a cigarette between his lips, smoke blowing out of his nose. He had let the ash of the cigarette fall onto the bottom of the desk and was running his fingers through it, drawing something. His fingertips were stained with ash, but he didn't seem to mind. He looked up when Steve entered. “Hey,” He said, the cigarette moving as he spoke.

“Hey,” Steve replied, sitting down beside him on the floor. “Am I late or something?”

“No. I’m just early.”

“What are you doing?” Steve leaned over towards the blonde, staring at the drawing. “Wow, that’s cool. Is it a cat?”

“No. I’m not really sure what it is. Just some weird little devil thing, I guess,” He turned his head, staring at the drawing from a different angle. “Hmm, I guess it could look like a cat.”

“I like cats.”

“Yeah, me too. Dogs are cool and all that, but they’re so desperate for attention,” Billy pulled the cigarette out of his mouth and tapped the ash onto the desk. “Hey, they’re kind of like you. You’re desperate for attention. Clingy puppy. King Steve the puppy.”

“What-- Me?! You’re the one who insists on attention every single minute of the day!” Steve argued. “You cant even be quiet for one minute!”

“Yeah, but I’m not _clingy_, there’s a difference. I’m fine with being alone. Sure, I like the attention, but I wont _whine _for it like you will.”

“Well, fine! You’re like a cat,” Steve studied Billy’s face for a moment before continuing. “I can see you as a kitten. Like, a scruffy black stray or something. You yowl for attention and get food all over your face and bite when people annoy you.”

“That is _not _accurate--”

“Come on, give us a meow,” Steve teased. Billy scowled and leaned forward to pinch Steve’s side, making Steve squeak and shove his hand away.

The door to the classroom slid open and Mr Cane walked in. He glared at them both, his arms crossed, and told them that he was very disappointed in them. After commanding them to sign the detention slip, he handed them both a fork and explained that they were scraping gum off the bottom of the desks. Like they didn't already fucking know that.

Once the teacher was gone, Steve stabbed a dry, colourless wad of gum with the fork and flicked it off, grumbling to himself. Billy did the same, lighting another cigarette as he worked.

“Hey,” Steve said after ten minutes of silence. “Would you eat one of these for fifty bucks?”

“Ew. No,” Billy blew the smoke out of his mouth, looking disgusted. “Would you?”

“Eh. For fifty, yeah. Once Tommy paid me a ten to eat a spoonful of paint in art class. I threw up after, but I did get my money, so it was worth it,” Steve said. “Okay, how about sixty? Would you do it for sixty?”

“Try a hundred. You ate _paint_?”

“Well, yeah, that’s what I said. I was only twelve though. I also got a week off school because my Mum got all worried and thought I had, like, I dunno, digested it or something. I didn't. I threw it up, so it was all good.”

“That's fucking disgusting, Harrington.”

“Yeah, it was. My teeth were stained blue, too! And it tasted like shit. I ate a bunch of sugar after I threw up, but couldn't get the taste out of my mouth,” Steve flicked another piece of gum off the bottom of the desk as he spoke. It landed across the classroom, bouncing across the floor for a second before he came to a stop.

“What did it taste like?”

“Uh, I dunno. Chemicals and shit.”

Billy laughed. “Did it taste like soap? I’ve eaten soap before, but never paint.”

“Why did you eat soap?”

“My Dad,” He gripped his fork so tightly that Steve could see his knuckles were going red. “He shoved a bunch in my mouth after I called Maxine a cunt. Made me chew and swallow it too. It was gross. I couldn't eat anything after, not even wash my mouth out with water. He didn't let me. All I could do was sit there and apologise,” Billy noticed Steve staring and let out a laugh that sounded forced.

“That’s horrible,” Steve said, giving him a sympathetic smile.

“Didn’t your parents ever make you eat soap?”

“What? No. They… Weren’t around a lot. Mostly had babysitters and nannies looking after me. They only really came back on holidays or for image. If I was hurt then they’d come back too, but only until I was better. Sometimes they even paid for a nurse to look after me so they could continue their rich parties,” Steve laughed bitterly. “Nowhere near as bad as your Dad, but you know. Still sucks.”

“Parents suck in general.”

They fell silent, flicking the gum off the bottom of the desks without another word. Steve got one so far it bounced off the wall and smiled, but he didn't feel happy. “You know,” He said after a while. “You really should report your Dad. I get that you don't like cops,” He added when Billy scowled. “But Hopper is one of the good ones. If you wanted, I could anonymously report him or something--”

“That’s what Wheeler and Byers said a couple of weeks ago,” Billy interrupted. He narrowed his eyes, and set his fork down slowly. “Did you… You fucking told them, didn't you?”

“What? I… No! I didn't...”

“You didn't…? What? What _didn't _you do?” Billy snapped. Anger flashed in his eyes and Steve swallowed.

“I didn't…” _Fuck it, he already knows. _“I didn't mean to.”

Billy laughed, throwing his head back as he stood up. “I cant fucking believe you, Harrington! First the cops, now Wheeler and Byers! You pathetic, clingy piece of shit!”

“Hey--”

“_I hate you_!”

A month ago, that wouldn't have hurt. Steve would have stood up, shouted ‘Well I hate you too!’ In his face, and stomped away. But it wasn't a month ago. It was the present. And fuck, those three words were hurting Steve so fucking much.

_I hate you._

_I hate me too_, Steve thought.

How could this boy change his emotions so fast? Only a couple of minutes ago, they were laughing and sharing stories about eating weird stuff. Now, Billy was leaning over Steve with a murderous glare, his eyes full of hatred, and Steve was hurting.

He was hurt.

He didn't know why the fuck he was hurt by those words.

_Maybe_, his brain supplied. _Maybe because you like him._

And, like,_ fuck _Steve’s brain. It had failed him during big tests and with comebacks for arguments, but it was actually thinking logically. For once.

_I do. I do like him. I really, really like him. And not in the way I should._

But Billy was a boy! A handsome, funny, infuriating, attractive, boy, but a boy nonetheless. Steve had never liked a boy before. No, he liked girls.

He just liked Billy too?

Oh, Jesus. Steve Harrington liked Billy Hargrove. Steve had a _crush _on him. He actually had a fucking crush on Billy fucking Hargrove.

And he was realising it while Billy had just shouted that he hated Steve.

Well. Shit.

“You’re just gonna stare at me?!” Billy growled, grabbing Steve’s shirt and pulling him to his feet. “What? Your little brain cant comprehend those fucking words? Here, I’ll repeat them. I fucking _hate you_, Harrington! You cant just go around telling people that my Dad hits me! Its not your story to tell!”

“Billy--”

Billy slammed his fist into Steve’s face, making the other boy groan and fall backwards onto one of the desks. He clutched his jaw, flinching when he heard the door slam. He was alone in the room. Blood dribbled down his chin, and he dabbed at it with his sleeve, stumbling out of the room and into the hallway. Billy was nowhere to be seen. He was probably walking home or something.

“Steve?!” A voice asked, and Steve looked up. Nancy was standing beside one of the lockers, her eyes wide with concern. “Oh my god! What happened?”

“Mm,” Steve groaned, clutching his jaw. “It fucking hurts.”

“Come on, there’s some ice in the kitchen,” She grabbed his hand and began to pull him towards the direction of the kitchen. Steve sat on top of one of the benches, holding the ice pack to his jaw with a wince. Nancy sighed, crossing her arms. “Was it Billy who did this?”

“He… I don't blame him. He found out that you and Jonathan know about him and his Dad, and he got pissed. Shouted at me, told me he...” Steve sighed heavily. “He… He said he hates me. Then he punched me and ran away.”

“Oh, Steve...”

“Nancy, have you ever liked a girl?” Steve asked suddenly. “Like, in the same way you like a boy?”

She stared at him. “I like boys, Steve.”

“Well, yeah, I know but...” He sheepishly looked down. “Have you ever wanted to kiss a girl as well?”

“No. Steve, what are you trying to say?”

“I think...” Steve bit his lip, wincing at the blood. “I think I might like a boy. Like the way I like girls. And… I don't know how to feel about it.”


	13. Chapter 13

It was raining by the time Steve got home.

He felt numb.

When he headed upstairs, he crawled into his bed and curled up underneath the blankets. Tears dripped down his face, wetting his pillow.

Fucking Billy Hargrove. He _really _liked Billy. Hell, they weren't even together! They were just friends! Yet here he was, crying because Billy had told him he hated him. Well, tough shit. Billy wasn't special because he hated Steve Harrington, _everyone _hated Steve Harrington. Even Steve Harrington hated Steve Harrington.

While Steve was crying, Billy had gone to pick up Max. She had had some stupid club after school, so he wasn't late or anything. She grabbed her bag when she saw him. “Where’s Steve?” She asked.

“We’re walking,” Billy replied. “Grab your skateboard.”

“Where’s Steve?” She repeated later as she skated slowly beside him.

“He was being a dick, so I punched him,” Billy answered blankly. They rounded the corner and he sped up when he saw the mechanics. Sitting outside, nicely cleaned, was his car. Max was squawking about Billy hitting people, but he was too distracted.

Once he got his car he sat down in the seats in silence for a few minutes. It smelt nice too. He’d have to ruin that with his cigarettes again.

“Why the fuck would you punch Steve?!” Max shouted. “He’s done nothing but helped us! He gave us rides, dude, he bought you like a billion packs of smokes, _he paid to get your car fixed_! What is wrong with you?!”

“Shut up, Max.”

She didn't shut up. In fact, she continued to complain the entire ride home, she continued to complain when they walked to the front door, and she continued to fucking complain when Billy let her in to go past. “You punched him! You know how horrible that is? Billy? Huh? You seriously need to get your anger checked out! I bet he wasn't even being that bad!”

“Billy,” Neil’s voice called from down the hallway. “Come here.”

That shut Max up. Billy glared at her and shrugged his leather jacket off, dumping it beside the door before he headed towards the sound of the voice. Neil was at the dining table, a beer can in his hand. He gestured for Billy to sit down.

“The school called.”

“Okay.”

“Said you not only threw a water balloon at a teacher, but you also skipped detention? And whats this I’m hearing about you punching somebody?”

Billy swallowed. “I… He was being an asshole. He deserved it.”

“For seventeen years,” Neil said calmly. “I’ve looked after you. I’ve fed you, clothed you, and how do you repay me--”

“You only started looking after me when Mum died! You’re a parent! You’re supposed to look after your kid!” Billy shouted, his chair falling over as he stood up. Neil stood too, moving around the table and slamming Billy up against the fridge so fast Billy couldn't even defend himself.

“Is this how you repay me?!” Neil roared, spit spraying in Billy’s face. “You become a fucking _queer_, you go around punching people, you act like the world is below you! Well, its not, William. Its not. You are useless, and pathetic. You’re going to die alone. Want to know why? _Because no one wants you_! I don't, hell, even your bitch of a mother didn't! Why do you think she did it, huh? It was because of _you_!”

Billy felt tears pricking at his eyes, and he shoved his father away. “Fuck you,” He growled, his voice cracking. He was going to cry, he could feel it. He was seconds away from sobbing. “_Fuck you_!”

Neil punched him in the stomach once, twice, three times, and watched as Billy collapsed onto his knees with a groan. Billy kept his head down until he heard his father walking away after promising he’d return with a proper punishment. The front door slammed and the truck started, signalling that he was finally gone. Tears dripped down his cheeks and he did nothing to stop them. Instead, he gingerly touched his stomach with shaking hands. He was obviously going to get a bruise.

“Billy?”

Max. Billy had forgotten she was still in the house. He decided, to keep his dignity, it was best if he just kept quiet. She approached him anyway, leaning down in front of him. “Billy? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” He croaked, turning away from her. “Fuck off, Max.”

“You’re curled up on the kitchen floor shaking. You’re clearly not fine.”

Jeez, she was persistent. “Okay, I’m not currently living my best life. Doesn’t matter. Seriously, Maxine, fuck off.”

“For what its worth,” She stood up, staring down at him with a soft look on her face. “You’re not useless. And _I_ want you. You’re not going to die alone,” She turned to walk away, but stopped and looked down when Billy grabbed her sleeve.

Billy opened his mouth to speak. If he was going to offer to get her ice cream, or maybe was going to tell her he hated her, he wasn't sure. The words never left his mouth. Instead, he started to cry.

He told her everything.

The two boys spent the rest of the afternoon crying. Billy, for the first time since his Mum, had a shoulder to cry on. Steve didn't have anyone to speak about his woes with.

The boy who had no one had someone. The boy who had everyone had no one.

They cried until they had no tears left. They cried, one spoke to his sister, one spoke to himself in his head. Both of them sobbed about having feelings for the other. And both of them shouted about hating each other.

Their hearts were heavy when they fell asleep that night, clutching their pillows, embarrassed and ashamed about letting tears spill.

They fell asleep thinking about each other.

<><><><>

It had been a week since his fight with Steve, and Billy still wasn't feeling any better. In fact, he hadn't returned to school since. It wasn't because he was scared to see Steve – why would he be scared? No, it was because of his arm.

When Neil had returned that night, drunk, he had dragged Billy out of bed and held up a knife. No matter how much Billy begged, cried, apologised, he didn't stop.

There was now a word carved into his arm. Max had wrapped it in bandages for him as he struggled to hold back tears. There was no way he could keep it hidden forever. He needed to wear long sleeves for the rest of his life. Or, until the scars healed, anyway.

Neil must have felt a little bit bad, because he let Billy get away with faking sick and allowed him to stay home from school for a week after. He also bought him an actual bed. Set it up for him and everything. He hadn’t pressed for Billy to do any work, or get out of bed. Billy didn't move from underneath his blankets unless he needed to go to the toilet.

When the next Monday rolled around Neil had gone back to his usual self, tough and unforgiving. He forced Billy to get out of bed at six am so he could make breakfast for Susan and Max. Moving his arm in the wrong way hurt, but Billy didn't complain. He instead did as he was told before munching on an apple for his own breakfast and had a long shower.

His arm stung as he washed himself.

Max was silent during the drive to school. She didn't even turn down Billy’s music like she usually did. When she got out of the car, she didn't instantly get out and slam the door. Instead, she turned to look at him. “Your hair looks good,” She said, trying to smile. He appreciated it. He knew his hair didn't look good, it was only tied up in a messy bun. He looked tired. Not horrible, but tired.

“Thanks,” Billy mumbled. “Don’t… Do anything dumb at school.”

“It’s going to heal,” She continued, glancing down at his arm.

“Yeah,” He answered, looking out the window. “Yeah, I know.”

She left without a goodbye.

Billy sat in his car for a while, chain-smoking as he watched the students walk past. Once his car was completely filled with smoke, he reluctantly opened some windows and continued, blowing the smoke outside.

He went to the office with the sad news he wanted to quit the basketball team.

The funny thing about living in a small town is how exciting a boy like Billy was. Every town had their rebels, yeah, and that used to be Steve Harrington before Billy came along. Back in Cali, there were so many like him. It wasn't like that in Hawkins. In Hawkins, if he did one little thing it was the talk of the town. In Hawkins, he was unique and special. Maybe it was the one thing he liked about that little shit hole.

Actually, that was a lie. He liked other things too. He liked Steve Harrington, even after he had told his friends all about Billy’s situation at home. Dick move, seriously. He didn't know if he could forgive him for that. But, despite that, he still liked Steve. Fuck, he hated him, but he _liked _him so much, and he hated that about himself.

He liked Steve Harrington’s stupid hair, big eyes, knowing smirk, huge heart. He hated Steve Harrington, but he liked him. A _lot_.

A boy like Billy was big news in Hawkins, so when somebody overheard he quit the basketball team, theories began to pop up everywhere. Billy heard them while getting the books from his locker, while standing behind a corner, even during class.

He was lucky nobody had spotted the bandage on his arm, since it was hidden under his leather jacket. The students of Hawkins High would probably go crazy if they added Billy being hurt to the mix.

Steve didn't approach him and ask if he was okay like he usually did.

He wasn't sure how he felt about that.

When the basketball team approached him and asked him why he’d quit, he said he just didn't like to play it anymore. That was a lie. He really liked to play it. It was a release, just like hitting things and working out was.

“But you’re our best player!” Tommy exclaimed.

“I _was_,” Billy corrected.

He didn't join them for lunch. He instead retreated to the library and curled up where nobody could see him, a book in his hands as he drank from a juice box. It was blackcurrant. Fuck blackcurrant juice. He drank it anyway.

When Max got into his car after school, she seemed happy. “Will’s Mum is having a dinner at her place next Friday,” She said, bouncing in excitement. “It’s gonna be great. I’m going to ask if I can stay the night at Ell’s. Do you think you can give me a ride? If its okay.”

“If Susan says yes, then you can go,” Billy said. “Its not my problem.”

“Is your arm okay?” She asked quietly.

He touched the bandage through his sleeve gingerly, wincing. “Yeah. I think I’m okay. Stop acting like its a big deal.”

“It _is _a big deal! You have the word f--”

He moved forward and covered her mouth. “Don't,” He said. “Don't say it out loud. You think I’ve fucking forgotten? I had to quit the basketball team because of it! When summer comes around, this is going to be even fucking worse! _I know whats on my arm, Max_!”

“Right,” She murmured when he pulled his hand away. “Sorry.”

Any other day, Billy knew she would have argued. She would have pushed him away from her, snapped at him to stop being an asshole, given him the silent treatment for the rest of the way home. But she didn't. Not today.

Steve was ruffling the curly haired kid’s hair. When he looked up, Billy turned his music up too loud to think and sped out of the parking lot.

Susan said yes about Max going to Will’s house. Or Ell’s. He wasn't sure, he wasn't really listening. He made them dinner and went to his bed so he could go back to sleep.

It wasn't even five o’clock.


	14. Chapter 14

When Steve was fifteen, he used to host parties at his house nearly every weekend. He was one of the few teenagers in Hawkins that had a big empty house with a pool. It was perfect for parties.

Steve used to be able to spend hours swimming in his pool, staring up at the sky, water swishing around him. It had once been a calming drug.

Now, when he looked out his window down at the pool, it made him feel sick.

He was feeling brave when he slid open the glass door to his backyard and stepped out, a cigarette between his lips and Billy’s Walkman in his hand. He had been smoking a lot recently. Since Billy had punched him.

He carefully walked along the diving board and sat down, dangling his feet in the water. It occurred to him that Barb’s last moments had been on this diving board, doing nearly the exact same thing as Steve was now. Part of him felt like she had died in vain. He and Nancy hadn't even stayed together. She had quite literally _died _so Nancy and him could fuck in the upstairs bedroom. Look at their relationship now. Nancy had left him for the guy who snapped pervy photos of her. She had died for nothing.

But he didn't even love Nancy anymore. He _had_, and she was still in his heart, but not in the same way. No, now he had handed his big dumb heart over to the Californian boy with anger issues.

Life was unfair sometimes.

He was listening to Billy speak about his opinion on Hawkins when they had first arrived. Billy had, unsurprisingly, hated the town. He called it a shit hole, once again blamed Max for moving, talked about moving to a new high school. The only thing he had liked was the stars.

“_You would have loved them, Ma,” _Billy’s voice crackled through the tapes. _“They fill up the entire sky. The moon… The moon is so big and bright. The stars keep glittering and glittering and they don't stop. I like to imagine you’re up there. Watching me. Are you disappointed in me? I bet you are. I’m disappointed in me too. I must be the most boring thing in the world compared to these stars… Damn. They’re so fucking beautiful, Mum. Like, like fairy lights and smiles and candles and glitter, sprinkled around the sky. They keep twinkling down at me.”_

Steve tilted his head backwards and looked up at the stars, trying to see what Billy had been seeing. The stars looked the same as they always did. How Billy saw fairy lights, smiles, candles and glitter, surprised him. Glitter, he could understand. But the others? No idea.

Billy’s words were beautiful. They reminded him of a poem that a girl had written for him once, in the eighth grade. Tommy had read it out in the cafeteria and the girl had ran away crying. Steve couldn't remember the poem now, but he did know it had something about his eyes twinkling like stars and his lips as red as cherries. She was actually really cute, but kind of geeky. Steve would have gone after her, but he didn't. Sometimes, he wondered if he could have. Maybe he could have fallen in love. Maybe she wouldn't have treated him like Nancy.

Billy’s words seemed… Poetic. Maybe, if they ever fixed up their friendship, Steve could find a way to convince Billy to attempt to write a poem. He would probably laugh and tell Steve to fuck off.

Steve missed his laugh. Not the one he used to show off, the one he used when they were alone. The giggle. That was the one Steve missed.

“_Maxine and Susan seem to like it here. I hate it. It smells like cow shit. Literally, the only good thing are those stars… It… Uh. It feels like I’m drowning in the silence. Like no matter what I’m always going to be stuck here, amongst the quiet and it makes me want to scream. Everything is so quiet and loud at the same time and… I don't know how much longer I can keep together. It’s like I’m cracking slowly from the inside out, and time is running out fast. I… You would have taken me away from here, back to the city. We could have surfed again, like we used to. I have to go. I need more smokes from the store. Oh, yeah, by the way, my arm has healed completely and my face looks normal again. Yay for that. Love you, Mamma. Bye.”_

The tape ended and Steve sighed, taking the headphones off. He crawled off the diving board, rather awkwardly, and went back inside. After making sure the door was locked, he turned on all the lights and went to go and call his parents.

He gave Dustin another lift to school the day after and spotted Billy in the school hallway. It was just them, but Steve didn't try to approach him. He only observed. Billy had his hair tied up in another messy bun. He had been doing that a lot recently.

There was a can of coke clutched in his hand. He took short sips from it, and when he raised his arm the sleeve of his leather jacket fell down. Steve noticed in horror the white bandage wrapped around his arm, all the way up to elbow.

“What happened?!” Steve blurted out, and Billy looked up with wide eyes.

“What? Nothing. Shut up!” Billy tugged his sleeve back up, scowling.

“Did your Dad--”

Billy threw the can of coke at Steve, who jumped awkwardly out of the way and flinched as it collided with the lockers behind him. The blonde stomped off, holding his sleeves tightly in fear of them falling down again.

Steve found Billy sitting in the library studying at lunch. He sucked on his pencil when he was thinking hard. It was… Really cute, actually. Steve headed over to him, setting down a milkshake in front of the blonde. Billy glanced up, glared at him, and looked back down at his book.

“I’m sorry,” Steve said.

There was no answer.

“I really am. It was an accident. They were pushing me and I just blurted it out. Plus, Nancy’s smart. She would have figured it out in the end anyway. Can you _please _tell me what happened to your arm?”

The librarian shushed them and Steve rolled his eyes.

Billy picked up the milkshake and sucked on the straw, pointedly ignoring Steve. With a sigh, Steve pulled out the chair next to him to sit down, but Billy put his hand down on the seat without looking up. “This seat is taken.”

“By who?”

“Anybody except for you! Take a hint, fuck off.”

“Boys. Shush,” The librarian called.

“I...” Steve scratched his head and pulled a packet of cigarettes out of his back pocket. He tossed them onto the table in front of Billy, who grabbed them and tucked them into his own pocket. “Is the seat still taken?”

“Yes,” Billy grabbed the chair and pushed it back underneath the table. “Seriously, Harrington, fuck off unless you want your face beaten in again.”

“Hargrove! Harrington! This is a _library_! Please be quiet! If I have to remind you again, then you’re going to have to leave.”

“Billy. I’m sorry,” Steve begged. He grabbed Billy’s pencil away from him and held it out of his reach, desperately looking down at Billy. “I’m really, really, _really _sorry!”

“For fucks sake, Harrington, I don't care! _Fuck off_!”

“Boys!” The librarian, an old woman with red hair, stomped over to them. “Out! I will not have you disturbing the other students!”

Billy’s mouth fell open and he stood up, grabbing his pencil back from Steve. “You piece of shit. You got me kicked out of the library! Put that on your list of things to beg for my forgiveness about,” He gathered his books together and shoved past Steve, their shoulders colliding forcefully.

Steve swore underneath his breath as the blonde slammed the library door shut so hard that it rattled.

“Are you coming to Will’s tonight?” Dustin asked a few days later as they messed around in the arcade. Max had yet to arrive, but Mike, Lucas and Will were already playing the Dragon’s Lair game while Steve begrudgingly bought snacks for them. Dustin had followed him.

“Uh,” Steve shot a glare at Keith, who was attempting to pick up a girl by offering her some of his chips, before looking out the window. He was waiting for Billy’s car to arrive, and really couldn't hear most of what Dustin was saying. “What?”

“You know!” Dustin said, exasperated. “For the dinner! You’re my ride!”

“I… I don't know. I might,” Steve straightened as he heard the heavy metal approaching. “Uh… Can you do me a favour?”

“Whats that?”

“Leave me alone for a second? I need to do something,” Steve passed the Dragon’s Lair machine and shoved the snacks into Mike’s arms. He held onto the strawberry milkshake though, hiding it behind his back as Dustin tried to make a grab for it.

Max was getting out of the car. Steve hurried outside, pushing past her without a hello and flopping down in the passenger side. Billy’s eyes narrowed when he saw him. “The fuck do you think you’re doing in my car, Harrington?” He asked, taking the strawberry milkshake away from Steve and sipping on it.

“I said I was sorry! What else do you want me to do? I’ve bought you at _least _fifty milkshakes already!”

“Get… Out...” Billy growled. He looked so angry that Steve scrambled out of his car and watched in dismay as the camaro sped off, leaving skid marks on the pavement outside the arcade. With a sigh, Steve turned and headed back inside.

When Steve arrived home that night, exhausted and his body begging to sit down, he discovered he had left the tapes on the coffee table. There was only a few left. Only six, in fact. Steve made himself a cup of coffee and sat down on the couch, putting the headphones on and putting in tape number 40.

“_Mum,” _Billy sounded happy for the first time in a while. _“It was my first day at school last week. I met… I met a guy. I have… A crush on him.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Billy loving stars is the cutest thing ever


	15. Chapter 15

Billy walked Max to the door, a plate of cookies in his hands. She was carrying her backpack and skateboard, while Billy was stuck with the food. He was pretty sure he looked like some weird sort of person coming to greet his new neighbour.

A lady with brown hair and baggy jeans opened the door. She smiled at them both. “Hi! Oh, cookies. You so shouldn’t have.”

She seemed nice. Billy, ready to dump Max off at this lady’s house so he could have a nice night to himself, hastily shoved the cookies into her arms. “Keep the plate. I kind of owe you one,” He was pretty sure she had no idea what he was talking about, but she smiled wider anyway.

“Thanks! I’m Joyce, by the way.”

“Billy, ma'am. Billy Hargrove,” He leaned forward, deliberately making his blue eyes pop as he licked his lips. Flirting with Mum’s was one of his favourite games to play. “You look… Gorgeous, if you don't mind me saying. I didn't know Jonathan had a sister.”

“Mm,” She said looking unimpressed. “Yeah, you used to same line on Karen Wheeler a few months ago. Not into minors, sorry kiddo. Come in, Billy Hargrove,” She said his full name teasingly, holding the door open.

“Oh,” Billy blinked in surprise, pulling back. _Way to ruin my game, Joyce. _“Uh, nah. I’m not planning on staying. Gonna head back home, maybe get some sleep in without this one interrupting me,” He jerked his head at Max, who rolled her eyes and scurried past Joyce to make her way inside.

“And what do you plan on having for dinner?” Joyce asked.

The question surprised him even more. He stumbled over his words for a second and she raised his eyebrows, stepping aside to let him in. “Steve’s called in sick anyway. Always got spare seats at the table.”

“He… Uh, was going to be here?” Billy scratched his head. He wasn't sure if he could handle anymore of Steve Harrington with his puppy eyes, begging for forgiveness. He _wanted _to forgive him. He just wasn't sure if he could. Maybe it was going to be okay if Harrington wasn't there.

“Yeah. Got the cold, apparently. If you ask me, I think he’s just trying to catch a wink, but whatever.”

Max came around the corner and grabbed Billy’s good arm, tugging him inside before he could protest. The door was closed behind him and he looked around, eyes wide. Fucking nerds everywhere. Was that the cop that Steve had tried to get him to talk to? And Nancy fucking Wheeler?

“You really are nerds, aren't you?” Billy said as he was dragged over by Max to the kids he had privately given nicknames. Sinclair, Zombie-Boy (he had heard the story from Tommy), Curly, Pale One, and The-one-who-never-spoke-unless-Pale-One-spoke-first. And of course, Max, that little shit.

“We’re not nerds,” Curly remarked, glaring up at him. “What are you even doing here?”

“Mrs Byers invited me,” Billy answered. He glanced up and saw Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Byers talking quietly in the corner, their arms around each other. They broke apart and Jonathan turned and headed down the hallway.

Billy awkwardly sat down on the couch, focusing on the TV. Wheeler walked past, blocking the screen for a second as she grabbed a blue jacket. “Jonathan!” She called. “Hurry up!”

_Bitch._

“Are you two going on a date?” Pale One asked when Byers rushed over to Wheeler and planted a kiss on the top of her head. “Ew.”

“I agree with oh Pale-One over here,” Billy said, making the kids giggle. “Ew. Have a nice time fucking, losers.”

“Oh, shut up, Billy,” Wheeler snapped. “I get that you want to take your anger out on--”

“Nancy,” Byers said quietly, putting his hand on her arm. “Don’t.”

She sighed and instead decided to glare at Billy, both of them shutting the front door loudly when they left.

Maybe the rest of the night would have been boring if Steve Harrington hadn't shown up at the door an hour or two later, drunk as hell.

And maybe Billy would have been able to stay angry at Steve if the boy wasn't so… Damn… Cute.

It started by the door slamming open, letting all the cold in. The kids instantly stood up, eyes wide. The-one-who-never-spoke-unless-Pale-One-spoke-first raised her hands up at the door, but bought them down again when Steve Harrington stepped into the house.

Actually, stepped wasn't true. He stumbled through, liquid spilling out of the bottle of expensive whiskey he clutched in his hand. He used his other hand to steady himself on the wall.

“Steve?” Joyce asked, coming around the corner. “What…?”

“Is he possessed?” Curly shrieked, but stopped when Pale-One slapped his arm.

“No,” Pale-One said in disgust. “I think he’s just drunk. Again.”

“Johnny...” Steve slurred, waving his bottle again. “Need ta, need to talk to him...” He pushed past. “Is. About my love life.”

“Steve, buddy,” Curly moved towards him. “Jonathan isn't here. Maybe you should just go to bed.”

Steve either didn't hear, or he was ignoring him, because he just stomped forward and pounded on Jonathan Byers’ door. “Jonathan! Buddy! Is… It’s Steve! You know Steve! S-Steve Harrington! With the hair! Its great hair, Jonathan! It… Uh, fuck, I’m sober, I swear! Its great! Hair! The best hair in all of Hawkins, no no no, no! The _world_! It hides all my insecurities! I’m, like, fucking, shit, I’m really insecure, Jonathan! Is that the word? I hate myself! And… Uh, you wanna know why?” He banged on the door again before resting his ear against the wood. “I hate myself, because, b-because I’m dumb. Big, dumb, stupid fucking Steve. But that’s not all! No, no wanna know why else Stevie Harrington hates himself?”

“God, he’s so drunk,” Pale-One muttered, rolling his eyes.

“What is wrong with him, Mike?” The-one-who-never-spoke-unless-Pale-One-spoke-first hugged his arm. “Mike? Is he sad?”

“He’s drunk,” Pale-One, aka Mike, began to quietly explain what drunk was. Billy stood up, watching Steve curiously.

“I hate myself because no one loves me!” Tears dripped down Steve’s face and he hastily wiped them away. “Not Nancy, not you, not the kids, not Mum and Dad, and especially not Billy. Billy hates me, Jonathan,” He pouted before covering his face with his hands. “Billy is so pretty. You know Billy? He has pretty eyes, Jonathan. They’re blue. Blue like… Like the sea. And, uh, the sky.”

The room went silent, all turning to stare at Billy, who could feel his cheeks going red. He swallowed and attempted to gain control of the blush spreading on his cheeks, with no success. Steve… Thought his eyes were pretty? Well, they were pretty eyes. He was quite proud of them. But now he knew that Steve liked them too, and it was… Well, shit. It was making him go even redder than before.

“But, like, I think you know Billy,” Steve continued to keep talking, his words slurring together. “I’m… I’m here to tell you to stop stealing the people I like! ‘S not fair, Jon. I liked Nancy first, I liked Billy first! Stop stealing them!”

_Wait… What?!_

“What I’m trying to say, mate, I love you bud, but what I’m trying to say is...” He took a deep exaggerated breath then hollered loudly. “_Jonathan, Billy has a crush on you_!”

“What?!” Billy stepped forward, looking around as everyone stared at him with wide eyes. “No. No, I do _not _have a crush on Jonathan Byers! That’s fucking disgusting. I’m not a fucking queer,” He glared around at all of them. “If any of you, _any _of you, ever fucking accuse me of being a fag I’m going to beat the shit out of you. Got it? That’s disgusting. Not a faggot.”

“Oh,” Steve turned around. “Hi, Billy. I missed you.”

With that, Steve passed out on the floor.

Billy turned even redder and fought the urge to kick the sleeping boy. He did not have a crush on Byers. Gross, yuck, fucking disgusting. Even just the thought of that made him want to throw up.

Steve muttered something under his breath and sat up, rubbing his bleeding nose. “I hurt myself,” He pouted. “Wanna go home now.”

Sometimes, Billy wondered how the hell his life had gotten so fucked up. Lugging a drunk Steve Harrington across the lawn with the help of Jonathan Byers’ mother was one of those times. Steve’s eyes were half open as he clung to Billy like a koala to a tree. He was mumbling incoherent nonsense, sometimes looking up at Billy or Joyce like he expected them to agree. Billy would only scowl, but Joyce would awkwardly pat his arm with a “Yes dear.”

When Joyce started to head over to her own car, Billy stopped. “Wait, I can take him home.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Mm. You’re probably just going to beat him up because he said some stuff about you being gay. I’m not letting that happen.”

“Look, I...” Billy scratched the back of his head. “I’m not… Like that.”

“What? Gay? Yeah, you made that very clear.”

“Fuck, I…” He let Steve slide onto the ground. “I’m not going to beat him up because he said I’m gay.”

“No?” Joyce raised her eyebrows. “What was it you said? You’d beat the shit out of anyone who accused you of being a ‘faggot?’”

“No! I was just… I wouldn't do that. I want to take him home. Steve and me… We’re not close right now, we had a fight, but I can help. I’ve taken care of drunk people a lot. I know what to do. My Mum, she used to drink a lot...” At the mention of his Mum, Billy scuffed his feet on the ground and looked away. “Just let me take him home, okay?”

“Okay,” Joyce said. “Okay. But if you hurt him, I’ll--”

“Yeah, yeah. I _wont_. I swear,” Billy bent down. “Harrington. You gotta wake up, mate. Don't you want to get home, into a nice warm bed? That sound nice?”

“Mm,” Steve agreed, thrusting his hand at Billy. “Help me up, baby.”

_Oh Jesus Christ._

Billy helped Steve up, slowly walking him over to his camaro now without the help of Joyce. He carefully helped the older boy into the seat, putting the seat belt on him and backing out of the driveway. He drove slowly, hoping that Steve wouldn't throw up in his car. She had just been fixed, after all.

When Steve’s house started to appear in the distance, Billy finally dared to look over at him. The other boy was snuffling, his eyes closed and his head tilted towards the window. He was sleeping. It was quite sweet, actually, but it meant that Billy was going to somehow have to get him inside without waking him up.

It was an unsuccessful attempt. Steve woke up the moment his door was opened before he stumbled out of the car and towards his (open) front door. The idiot hadn't fucking closed it.

“Okay, lets get you to bed now,” Billy bent down and tugged Steve’s bright white shoes off when they arrived in the bedroom, tossing them towards the door. He then directed the drunk over to the bed and sat him down. “Arms up. I’m gonna get this sweater off you.”

“You’re so nice to me, baby,” Steve slurred as he raised his arm. Rolling his eyes, Billy carefully pulled the sweater over his head, throwing them into the hamper beside his cupboard.

“Don’t call me baby.”

“Mm, grumpy,” Steve wriggled his eyebrows in what Billy assumed was supposed to be seductive. “Its cute when you’re bossy.”

“Uh huh,” The blonde hesitantly looked down at Steve’s jeans. “You got any pyjamas or…?”

“Yes!” Steve gasped. “My great aunt got me a pair of blue ones for Christmas! They’re really comfy! But I think they’re in the wash right now.”

“Interesting,” Billy said as he scooped up a pair of tracksuit pants from the floor. “Okay, now I’m going to take your jeans off. Can you stand up for a second?”

“Wait, wait, no, I can do it myself!” Steve stood up and unzipped his jeans, undoing the button as well. Billy turned his back, eyes wide, and waited until he heard the bed creak before he finally turned around again. Steve wrapped his arms around one of his many pillows and cracked an eyelid open to look up at Billy. “Y’know,” He started, his words slurring together as he sat up a little, leaning on one elbow. “I know a… I know a lot about you, Billy Hargrove. But, I still really l-like you.”

“That’s really nice of you,” Billy pushed his head down onto the pillow. “Go to sleep, Harrington.”

“I’m sorry for telling Jonathan and Nancy,” Steve mumbled, closing his eyes. “I really am.”

“It’s okay. Come on, go to sleep.”

“Wait,” Steve grabbed Billy’s arm as he turned to leave. “What happened to your arm?”

“Nothing. I’m okay. Can you _please _go to sleep?”

Steve lightly touched the bandage, but didn't take it off.

Billy’s lips parted slightly and he tilted his head, his eyes focused on Steve’s brown ones.

That night, once Billy had made sure Steve was going to choke on his own puke, he lied down on the floor. Steve had given him a pillow and two thick blankets to put underneath him. Billy had said he would just sleep in the spare room, but Steve wouldn't accept that. He only shoved the pile of blankets towards Billy and said something about wanting him to stay.

When Billy woke up, the sun was creeping through the curtains and into his eyes, and there was a heavy weight on top of him. He lied there for a while, staring up at the ceiling as Steve slept on top of him.

He wondered when the hell his life got so weird.

“Morning, sunshine,” Billy said when Steve stirred slightly. “Could you get up? You’re heavy as _fuck_.”

Steve sat up quickly, staring down at Billy with wide eyes. “You’re still here?”

“Well, I couldn't exactly leave, what with you on top of me and all that. You hungover?”

“Um. Just a small headache, nothing major.”

The two stared at each other for a moment before Steve clambered off the blonde, leaning against the bed and hugging his knees to his chest. “I am sorry. For telling Nancy and Jonathan. Even though it was an accident.”

“I said it was okay. Just don't go telling anyone else, okay?” Billy winked. “I _do _have a reputation.”

Steve laughed, shaking his head slightly. “I’m so happy we’re friends again.”

“Mm, we can braid each other’s hair and all that. Never call me your friend again. You can call me your mate, or something like that, but friend?” Billy rolled his eyes. “Fuck off.”

“But your hair sucks. I could give you some tips,” Steve joked.

“Fuck you! My hair is perfect, you piece of shit!”

They both laughed at that, because both of them knew Billy’s hair was currently frizzing up at the ends and all over the damn place. Steve’s hair didn't exactly look perfect either, but it was still better than Billy’s. Though, Billy would never admit it.

“You hungry?” Steve asked after a few moments of a comfortable silence. “I know how to make, like, eggs or something. And I would _die _for some coffee.”

“Then die,” Billy replied, but he shrugged and stood up, stretching his arms above his head. “Yeah, make me food.”

Steve’s house was cold, and it annoyed both of them. Steve piled on three layers, while Billy only tugged his leather jacket tighter around him and complained until the heater was turned on. They basked in it’s warmth, holding their hands over it. Steve bounced lightly on his feet, humming something under his breath. After a few minutes, Billy had had enough. “Harrington! _Stop it_!”

“No. Fuck you,” Steve only began to hum louder. Billy groaned, rolling his eyes and pulling away from the heater, stomping towards the kitchen. He opened the fridge and grabbed a carton of orange juice, drinking half of it before wiping his mouth and pouring himself another glass. He really liked orange juice.

Humming approached and Billy glanced up, leaning against the bench as he sipped from the glass. At home, if he was drinking anything apart from beer it would be water, and he usually drank from a blue plastic cup. He didn't like to admit it, but he could actually be very clumsy sometimes and had dropped said blue plastic cup more times than he could count. The glass he held in his hand now was reasonably heavy, and had a design of some sort decorated around the edges, along with a big fancy H. It probably stood for either Harrington or Hatred. Billy wished it stood for hatred. He had a lot of hatred.

“That’s my Dad’s glass,” Steve said, hoisting himself up onto the bench and sitting down.

“Mm hmm.”

“He doesn't let me drink from it. He’s gonna be pissed if he finds out.”

Billy drank the rest of the juice and rinsed the glass out before putting it back where he found it. “I’m sure the precious cup will survive, Harrington.”

As Steve opened his mouth to argue, they both heard the sound of the front door opening. Voices spoke, muffled, before a woman called out “_Steven_!” Loudly.

“My parents are home,” Steve said, visibly straightening up a little. “It’s been _weeks_. They were supposed to be back, like, two Saturday’s ago,” He rolled his eyes, jumping off the bench. “I have someone over, Mum!” He hollered.

“Steven, we’ve talked about these girls you keep sleeping--” A man shouted, but Steve cut him off.

“A friend! Uh, wanna come meet him?!”

Billy rolled his shoulders and brushed back his hair. A pretty woman with blue nails came into the kitchen, followed by an older man with greying hair. The woman raised her eyebrows. “Oh, hello…”

“Nice to meet you both,” Billy said, flashing them his charming smile. The mother blushed. _Damn, she’s a lot like Karen Wheeler. Every Mum in this town is so fucking _basic. “I’m Billy Hargrove.”

“What are you doing here?” The man asked rudely. Out of the corner of his eye, Billy saw Steve pinch his nose in annoyance.

It was hard to resist being sarcastic to Steve’s father. _I was fucking your son, actually. Ha… I wish. _“Nothing. Just, uh… Yeah, Harrington, what am I doing here?” He turned to look at Steve, knowing he shouldn’t tell the truth. That Steve had gotten super wasted the night before and needed a lift home. That probably wouldn't go down well.

“You were. Um,” Steve sighed, looking down. “He was helping me on a school project, actually.”

“His grades are better than yours?” Mr Harrington said, his eyebrows shooting up to his hairline.

“Yeah,” Billy said, leaning his elbow on Steve’s shoulder. “Straight A’s actually. Hard to believe, I know.” _I drank from your cup, asshole._

“Yes, well, you don’t exactly let of the aura of someone who would be good at school, what with your...” Steve’s father’s eyes flickered from his dirty jeans to ruffled shirt to his earring and messy hair. “…Style.”

“Did you eat something other than popcorn, like we told you to?” Mrs Harrington asked Steve, ignoring the glare her husband was shooting down at the blonde bad boy in his kitchen. Billy scowled up at him, his head tilted back and his arms crossed. He was not only annoyed about this guy speaking down to him, but also the way he calmly insulted his looks.

“Yeah, well. Surprise, I’m smarter than most people. I just know how to hide,” Billy flashed the older man a warning smile.

“Actually, you seem to stand out. A lot. What are you doing, hanging out with my son anyway?”

“I told you. He’s helping me with a school project. God, Dad, just leave him alone, okay?” Steve interrupted. “And yes, Mum,” He looked down at his mother, who was running her fingers through her light brown hair. “I ate something other than popcorn. If you don't like me eating it so much, then why do you keep buying it?”

“I always buy it in bulk because you have so many friends,” _From middle school_, Billy thought. “So I thought you could share! But I get back and I find that you’ve eaten it all!”

“Well, like, maybe if you guys were home more often then I wouldn’t--”

The two argued pointlessly, but it didn't seem to have any heat in it. Not like the tension Billy had with his father. It reminded him, yet again, that he was different. That his household situation wasn't normal.

“So how much longer are you planning to stay?” Mr Harrington said to Billy, smiling. That was obviously polite code for g_et the fuck out of my house_.

“Come on,” Steve said, grabbing Billy’s jacket and yanking him upstairs. “Sorry, they’re assholes,” Steve said once they were safely in his bedroom with the door closed. “Well, my Mum isn't that bad, but my Dad? Total douche.”

“Your Mum is super hot,” Billy remarked. He was into guys, but damn, he could tell when a lady was hot. Mrs Wheeler, Nancy’s Mum, was actually pretty up there too.

“Yeah, I know. Like, everyone says that,” Steve sat down on his bed. He bounced for a second before he zoned in one Billy’s wrist. “The bandage...”

“No, I’m not going to tell you or show you what happened, and nothing you can say will change my mind,” Billy hid his arm behind his back with a scowl. He couldn't stand the pitying look that Steve gave him whenever he saw the bruises on his body. And this one… He, himself, couldn't stand to look at it without tears filling his eyes.

Steve reached out and grabbed Billy’s good arm, tugging him closer. For a sweet moment, Billy thought he was going to be pulled onto the other boy’s lap, but instead Steve let go and patted the space beside him. Billy sunk onto the soft bed beside him, revelling in its comfort, but secretly a little disappointed.

Every time he breathed in, he got a good sniff of Steve’s bedroom. His room wasn't the cleanest, unlike Billy’s (because of Neil), but it didn't smell _bad_. More like deodorant, hairspray, and lavender. Why did his bedroom smell like lavender? Billy decided not to ask. Instead, he copied when Steve flopped back on the bed on his back.

“You ever feel like you’re drowning?” Steve asked suddenly, his eyes focused on the ceiling. “Like no matter what you’re always going to be stuck here? Like you want to scream, and stop everything from being so damn quiet. Like… Like you’re drowning in silence. And you’re breaking slowly. And time is running out.”

Billy turned his head slightly, letting his wall fall away to reveal his most vulnerable side. He waited until Steve’s eyes met his before he slowly started unwrapping the bandage on his arm, wincing as he did so.

One by one, the letters were revealed.

**F A G G**

Billy gritted his teeth and pushed his arm against Steve, gesturing for him to unwrap the rest. Steve sat up, crossing his legs with concern on his face. He carefully took the bandage off, staring in horror at Billy’s arm. The blonde had to look away.

“Billy...” Steve rubbed circles around his palm with his thumb. “I...”

**F A G G O T**.

“It was my Dad. He knew how much this would affect me, he… He wanted to do something I wouldn't forget, and would really fuck me up, but would make it so I wouldn't have the courage to show anyone who mattered,” Billy looked up at him. “I’m not even gay,” He added, lying through his teeth. He continued speaking. “I am drowning. I’m drowning every fucking day of my life, Harrington. I’m fucked up. My Dad is ruining me, he’s breaking me, he’s attacking me in so many ways and I have no way of stopping him. I’ve tried before. I’m angry, I’m so fucking angry. I hate this town, I hate the people and the parties, I hate my Dad and… And I hate you. I fucking hate you _so much_.”

“I know. I understand,” Steve said. Billy dropped his arm.

“Huh?”

“I said, I understand. You can say you hate me. I don’t care. Because I know deep down you don’t _really _hate me. You like hanging out with me. Plus, like a billion people hate me. You would only blend in with everyone else, and you’re Billy Hargrove,” He nudged him playfully. “You don’t like to blend in with others, do you?”

“You’re… Not even offended I said I hated you? I hate you, Harrington! I _hate _you!”

“No, you don’t. You definitely don’t _like_ me, but hate? Nah. That’s over and done with. We’re friends.”

“Ugh. No. We are so not.”

“So...” Steve tilted his head, the famous smirk on his lips that Billy had heard so much about. “How’s it feel to be best friends with Steve Harrington? You seem very happy about it.”

“You wish,” Billy said, rolling his eyes. “Okay, maybe I can tolerate you a lot more than anyone else. But… It’s only because you understand me.”

“See! _Best friends_!”


	16. Chapter 16

Billy was feeling peaceful again as he arrived home. Neil didn't say anything, Max wasn't there to give him a headache for another few hours, Susan timidly asked him how his day was. There were no arguments, Neil didn't get drunk, and Billy spent the rest of the day working out in the lounge with Steve on his mind.

Somehow, the boy had echoed his words. He was drowning. They were both drowning. Somehow, Steve Harrington, that little bitch, understood him. Or, to some extent anyway. He probably didn't know shit compared to Billy, but whatever.

His arm stung as he lifted his weights, but it was better than it had been the day before. He drank water straight from the tap and grabbed his keys so he could pick up Max.

When Monday rolled around, Steve and Billy both arrived to school at the same time. As if some sort of mutual agreement, they instantly moved to walk together. “Hey,” Steve said cheerfully.

“Hey yourself,” Billy replied, stopping so he could light a cigarette. “How’d you sleep?”

“Ah, how sweet of you to ask,” Steve fluttered his eyelashes mockingly. When Billy only glared at him, he sighed and nodded. “Yeah, okay I guess. Kind of running on coffee right now. But I’m alright. What about you? Did your Dad do anything?”

“No. Usually when something as bad as this happens, he leaves me alone for a while,” Billy scowled when he saw Steve doing that small pitying look of his – his lips pressed together and his eyes wide – and crossed his arms. “Don’t look at me like that. Fucking hate pity, you should know that.”

“You’re right,” Steve said solemnly. “As your best friend, I should know that.”

He cackled with laughter and ran away when Billy began to jab his sides sharply with his fingers. Billy watched Steve disappear into the crowds, a small smile on his face. _Best friend indeed_. He wanted to punch the older boy and then kiss him better. He wanted him _so bad_.

He stopped smiling when he arrived to class and discovered in dismay that he had had an assignment due. He made up some bullshit to the teacher about leaving it home and headed to the library during lunch. Steve found him and sat down in the seat next to him, humming something under his breath. Billy glared at him until he stopped and continued to scribble.

“You know,” Steve said, taking one of Billy’s pencils and trying to balance it on his nose. “School is pretty dumb. Like, when am I going to need algebra?”

“You’d be surprised,” Billy answered, snatching back his pencil. “Seriously though, I need to finish this dumb thing.”

“_Why _though? Do you think the cops are gonna arrest you and be like ‘I’ll let you go if you tell me what the square root of eighty-one is?’”

“Because I like having good grades, Harrington. For fucks sake, can you actually be quiet? You’re throwing off my inspiration. Also. It’s nine.”

Billy dumped the crappy three pages of writing on the teachers desk when lunch was done and waited until school was over so he could have a smoke.

His mind, for the billionth time, wandered back to Steve’s big puppy eyes. His smile. The way he joked around but was always ready to stop, hoping he wouldn't overstep. He wondered if he had always been like that. Had King Steve known the limits of people? Had King Steve been kind?

No. He had heard that King Steve had only turned kind (bitch, Billy privately thought) when Nancy goddamn Wheeler had come along. When she had grabbed his crown and heart, waited a few days, and stomped on them in front of his face.

Pretty Boy Steve knew limits.

King Steve had not.

Sometimes, Billy got a glimpse of King Steve. Whether it be simply talking or the smirk he had on his face when he was in possession of alcohol or weed, that was the only glimpse Billy had into Steve’s past. Did Steve have glimpses into Billy’s past? His vulnerabilities? Billy had certainly been at his worst in front of Steve.

The bell rang, pulling Billy out of his thoughts, and he stood up as he gathered his stuff. He blended into the sea of students, all eager to get out of the stuffy classroom. His hip bumped into a guy on the basketball team (_Edward?_) and his arm slammed directly into the door. His arm stung so sharply that he stumbled back, cursing under his breath. Some people glanced at him worriedly as they squeezed past him, but they didn't ask if he was okay and he didn't want them too.

It wasn't that he wasn't used to cuts. Hell, it wasn't even that painful compared to what he had in the past. It was just the element of surprise that had caught him.

Steve was waiting outside his classroom, drinking a milkshake and holding another in his hand. Billy had to hold back the smile that was tugging at his lips. He approached the other boy, cutting away from the crowd. “Hey,” He said, grabbing the milkshake and peering underneath the lid to see what flavour it was. Strawberry. Perfect.

“Hey yourself,” Steve said mockingly. His face fell when he noticed Billy gingerly moving his arm. “Wait, are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I just bumped my arm on the door. I’m okay. Don’t be such a fucking worry wart, Harrington,” Billy teased.

“You sure you’re good?”

“_Yes_! I literally just bumped my arm on a door!”

“If you say so,” Steve said, smiling and taking a sip of his milkshake. “So, I was thinking. Since you’re my _best friend_\--”

“I am so not your best friend,” Billy took a long slurp out of his milkshake, listening as Steve continued to speak.

“Then maybe you could help me, I dunno, babysit the kids tonight? I know what you’re going to say!” He blurted when Billy opened his mouth. “’_No, they’re nerds, I hate them, why would I wanna babysit them?_’ Billy, if not for them, try for me? I love them, really, but I don’t think I can handle a whole night alone with them at my ex girlfriend’s house.”

“Fine,” Billy said, surprising both himself and Steve. “But only because I have nothing better to do in this piece of shit town. Also because I do feel kind of sorry for you, being stuck with those little brats.”

“They’re not _that _bad. They mostly just lounge around in the basement and play board games. We have the entire house to ourselves. Can probably get high or something, if you wanted.”

“Wait, how many of your kids have older siblings?”

Steve counted on his fingers. “Uh. Three. Mike, Max, and Will. You know this, you _are _Max’s step-brother.”

“Yeah, yeah, shut up. And also how many have parents?”

“Um. Like, all of them? You do know how babies are made, right?”

“All the parents and other teenagers, you’re telling me they’re all out of this shit hole at exactly the same time? Something doesn't add up, Harrington,” Billy took a long slurp from his milkshake, his eyebrows raised. “Why are you always looking after the brats?”

“Okay,” Steve looked sheepish. “Maybe I like looking after them. They’re good kids!” He insisted defensively. “And even though you wont admit it, you like looking after them a little bit too.”

Billy opened his mouth to tell Steve that _no_, he did _not _like looking after them, they were _brats_ and he hated their guts, but he was interrupted when a boy with brown teeth came up and slung his arm around Billy’s shoulders. He shoved a flyer into Billy’s hands. “There’s a party tonight,” The boy said. “You and, uh, Steve, are welcome to come. Nine o’clock. My house. What do you say?”

“I say brush your fucking teeth--” Billy started, but Steve interrupted him.

“Can’t. We’re babysitting his little sister, sorry, _step_-sister, tonight.”

Jeez, no wonder Steve stopped being popular. You can’t just go around telling people you’re babysitting, especially when you’re a guy. They’d think you were a queer. Literally everyone knew that. Billy shrugged the guy off his shoulders and jabbed Steve in the ribs, ignoring the pained “O_of_” and looking back at the guy. “Yeah, nah. Maybe next time.”

“You’re babysitting?” The guy asked, one eyebrow raised. Yeah, he looked like he was gonna laugh.

“Trust me, not my choice,” Billy muttered.

“Yeah, but like, you’re actually gonna be babysitting?”

“Do you want me to knock your disgusting brown teeth down your fucking throat? No? Then _fuck off_!” Billy snapped, shoving the guy roughly. “Not in the mood for your fucking bullshit!”

“Okay, okay, jeez,” The guy backed away, avoiding the many stares people were shooting at them. Billy scowled, turning to look back at Steve.

“What house is this pity party going to be held?”

<><><><>

Dinner was in a few minutes, Billy could smell it. Some sort of stew, he was pretty sure. Neil was probably already at the dinner table, a beer in his hand as he waited for his kids and wife to come out of their bedrooms to sit down. He would then ask Max and Susan questions, ignoring Billy, and they would pretend like they were a happy little family.

_Ha_.

As suspected, Susan knocked on Billy’s door a few minutes later, telling him dinner was ready. Behind her, Maxine stomped past with a pink hairbrush, gritting her teeth as she ripped the hairbrush through her bright red hair. “I’ll be out in a minute,” Billy told Susan. He glared at her as she left.

Part of him was just tempted to skip dinner. It wasn't really going to be anything special. But he knew if he did skip dinner, Neil would shout at him until he came out and sat down at the damn dinner table. Not worth the trouble, so he left his bedroom and sat down across from Max. Susan gave Billy a decent amount of stew and he leaned one elbow on the table, bored as he listened to Neil talk about his day.

When dinner was finally over Billy retreated to his bedroom, turning his music up loudly and trying to resist the urge to scream along with the lyrics. Max threw open his bedroom door and he glared at her, blowing smoke out of his nostrils. “Time to go?” He asked, tugging on his shoes and following her out the door when she nodded.

Steve was talking with an older woman, probably one of the Mum’s that Billy had yet to meet. He approached them, smiling warmly at the woman. “Hi. I don't believe we’ve met. I’m Billy, Billy Hargrove. And you are?”

“You can call me Claudia,” The woman smiled, turning red as Billy leaned down and pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. Behind them, Billy could practically feel Steve rolling his eyes. “Oh, you charmer,” Claudia said, swatting Billy’s shoulder.

“Some women are too beautiful to resist, ma’am,” Billy answered. He stepped back and glanced over at Steve when the woman was gone. Steve looked at him with a blank stare.

“Did you seriously just flirt with Claudia?”

“It’s _fun_,” Billy insisted, elbowing his side. “You should try it sometime. These women go crazy for me. I guess their hubbies aren't satisfying them enough,” He studied his nails, pretending to be bored. “I’m helping them stay sane.”

Steve snorted and rolled his eyes, muttering something that sounded like “Yeah, because you totally like women,” but Billy wasn't sure.

When Billy entered the house, he was pleasantly surprised to find the kids weren't running around everywhere like he had originally thought. Instead, they quietly sat in front of the TV, focused on a movie. Lucas was awkwardly holding hands with Max, who was clearly struggling to hide her blush.

“I’ve got to heat up the casserole because most of them haven't eaten yet, and I think Mrs Wheeler left us a plate of cookies?” Steve started to speak. “Though maybe the kids have eaten them all already. I don't know. I’m really craving a smoke, but I’ve got to mop the basement because on of those _brats_,” He raised his voice at brats, receiving shouts back. “Fucking dropped a glass of lemonade and a fruit platter. Like, how do you manage to create two messes within five minutes? So that’s fun. And then I have to try to get them to do their homework! They’re nerds, you’d think they’d like homework! But no, they don't want to do it because they’re watching a movie. Say they’ll do it after. That’s so not true. Do you think you can keep an eye on them while I--”

“Aren’t you a good little housewife?” Billy mocked. He crossed his arms. “The brats will be fine. I’ll heat up the dinner, you go clean the lemonade and fruit. It’s gonna get really sticky if you leave it any longer.”

“You sure you can--”

“Yes! I can heat up a fucking casserole, for fucks sake,” Billy gave him a light push. He waited until Steve had disappeared downstairs before stomping into the lounge room and muting the TV. The kids protested loudly, but stopped when he scowled. “Listen here, brats,” He said, his eyes shining dangerously. “You are _thirteen_. That means you’re old enough to clean up your own messes! Who spilt the lemonade?”

“Dustin did,” One of them piped up helpfully. Curly, aka Dustin, squawked.

“Did _not_! It was Mike who scared me, so--”

“Yeah, but you were still holding the lemonade!”

“Okay, but the lemonade is nothing compared to Lucas’ fruit platter! Like, none of us even wanted fruit, so--”

“_I don't care_!” Billy snapped, shutting them up. “You, and you,” He pointed to Sinclair and Dustin. “Go and help Harrington clean. _Now_. The rest of you, do your fucking homework. No arguing, or I’m shoving all your heads down the toilet and flushing three times. We’ll see how long you can hold your breath.”

Billy smiled triumphantly when the kids scurried to move, two of them running downstairs and the others grabbing backpacks and pulling out sheets of homework. He was about to turn so he could heat up their casserole when he noticed the one with curly hair, the weird girl, wasn't doing anything. “Didn’t you hear me?” He asked, staring at her. “Homework.”

“No school,” She said, blinking up at him. “No homework.”

“Oh,” Billy’s eyebrows stitched together. Now that he thought of it, he had never seen her when he went to pick up Max. Steve never gave her rides either. “You’re home schooled, then?”

“Um. Yes.”

“What’s your name?”

“Ell.”

“Okay, Ell...” He stuck his tongue in the corner of his mouth, unsure what to do. “Then I guess you can just. Like. Read or something. Grab a book,” He pointed at the bookshelf behind her. Her eyes lit up and she turned around, searching the bookshelf for something interesting. Once they were all silent, he headed to the kitchen and found a casserole in the fridge.

Steve entered while Billy was sitting on the bench, watching the casserole slowly heat up as he munched on a piece of ham. He glanced up. “Got the kids to shut up,” Billy said, smirking.

“How’d you manage that one?”

“Threatened to shove their heads down the toilet. They’re doing homework now.”

“Nice,” Steve hoisted himself up onto the bench beside Billy. “I can never get them to shut up.”

“You’re too soft on them. They’re old enough to know how to clean up a mess. I could cook a full dinner by the time I was nine,” Billy looked out the window, suddenly feeling sad. “Though, I usually just ate cereal. My Dad didn't restock the cupboards a lot,” He caught Steve staring at him sadly and laughed, trying to make light of the situation. “On the bright side, I learned how to make _really _good cereal.”

“I ate cereal as a kid a lot too,” Steve said. “My parents weren't always home.”

“Shitty parents, huh?”

“Mm,” Steve agreed. He pursed his lips, tilting his head up to the ceiling. “Whats your favourite cereal, Hargrove?”

“Coco pops.”

“Really? Mine’s fruit loops. I like to put actual fruit on them, like, peaches or something, and then sprinkle it with sugar. Great breakfast, lunch, and dinner,” Steve grinned. “I’m an expert cereal maker, if you’re ever hungry for some breakfast.”

“Oh please,” Billy teased. “Like you could ever out cereal the cereal master.”

“_Cereal master_?”

“Yeah man. Cereal master. You can be, like, the cereal king or something, but I am the master,” Billy said, making them both laugh. When their laughter had died down, Billy pulled a packet of cigarettes out of his pocket and stuck one in his mouth, lighting it with his cheap plastic lighter. He held one out to Steve, who only slightly parted his lips. Grinning, Billy softly put it in his mouth and held the lighter to the end of it. Once it had caught, he put the lighter back in his pocket and realised he had been holding the smoke in his mouth the entire time. He blew it out, deliberately not looking over at Steve, who looked fucking gorgeous when he was smoking. Dorky, dumb, but gorgeous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *claps* Lets all give it up for our mamma steve everybody.
> 
> Also i cant do math for shit, i legit listened to my nerd friends speaking and then googled the answers to one of their questions so ummmmmmmm sorry. I'm gay, guys, I cant do math.  
(just let me be a lesbian ok)


	17. Chapter 17

Steve and Billy smoked one cigarette each, exchanging no words or looks. One of the nerds entered, looking unimpressed that they were smoking in his kitchen, but left without saying anything and with a glass of juice in his hands. Billy jumped off the bench when the oven tinged, putting on a pair of oven mitts and taking out the dish. It smelled annoyingly good. “Gather your brats, Harrington,” Billy said, nudging him off the bench with his elbow and putting down the casserole.

“_Kids_!” Steve shouted, making Billy wince and cover his ears, oven mitts still on.

“Jesus fucking Christ, give a guy a warning,” He muttered. The kids bombarded into the kitchen and a few of them stopped to sniff.

“You look like a Mum with those on,” Max told Billy, nodding at his hands. He narrowed his eyes and pulled her into a headlock, ignoring the kids shouting at him to stop. Clearly they didn't realise he was only playing until he started to ruffle her hair.

“A Mum, huh? Well, you look like you’ve been digging through bins. Again,” Billy said when he let go of her. She huffed, trying to flatten down her frizzy hair as Billy pulled the oven mitts off. “Now wash your fucking hands, brats.”

They gathered around the sink and Billy turned around to see Steve dishing up the food. “Me and Max already ate,” He said. “Just for the record.”

“Oh. Do you want some or not then?”

“Like. A small amount, I guess?” Billy flinched when he felt something cold go down his back. Swearing, he turned around. Max was grinning up at him. “Maxine!” He growled, sticking his hands down his shirt. “Did you put a fucking ice cube-- You did! You bitch!” He pulled it out and threw it at her. She ducked, the ice cube landing in the sink behind her.

“Revenge,” She said, smirking. “Don’t ruffle my hair again, housewife.”

“Oh, _fuck you_\--”

“Guys,” Steve interrupted them. He shoved a plate into each of their hands. “Stop arguing. Max, no more ice cubes. Hargrove, don't ruffle her hair again. Also, don't call her a bitch.”

Billy waited until Steve’s back was turned before he stuck his middle finger up at her, scowling.

They headed to the table and Billy nearly groaned in annoyance. He’d already sat through one family dinner that night. He wasn't sure if he could handle another. He sat down anyway, already annoyed. But when Steve sat down at the table and the kids instantly fell into chatter, he felt a strange warm feeling fill his heart.

Was he actually… Enjoying dinner?

Dinner had always been one of Billy’s least favourite times of the day. Fake smiles, tension, stuffy air, disgusting food. Occasionally, Billy would have his head slammed into the table if he refused to eat whatever it was that was on his plate. It had grown to be a dreaded time of the day. But with the nerds and Steve, he felt strangely happy.

The casserole tasted great, and when Steve set a can of beer down in front of him with a smile, it only got better. He was sat next to Ell, who kept glancing up at him. She occasionally asked Billy questions, like what was in his ear (_“Uh, my earring?”_) and what he was drinking (_“Beer. Sorry kiddo, you can’t have any.”_), but was quiet most of the time. Billy appreciated that. He hated small talk, and she must have been able to tell.

She was fascinated with his earring, even asking if she could touch it. He held back laughter and tilted his head towards her so she could flick the silver blade. “Hurt?” She asked curiously. Billy wondered why she didn't speak in full sentences, but decided not to ask.

“No. It feels normal now. I can even take it out.”

“Show me?”

He nodded and abandoned his fork, taking his earring out of his earlobe and handing it to her. She studied it, amazed, before handing it back to him. He poked it back through the hole and she wrinkled her nose and stuck her tongue out in disgust, making him laugh.

“Can you change them?” She asked. Billy forgot all about his hatred of small talk and nodded, eating his dinner while he talked about the different earrings he had.

“The blade is my favourite, so I wear it the most, but I have others too. I wear them around, just not as often. When I’m swimming, I have a pair of small silver hoops,” He held his thumb and index finger close together to show how small they were. “I also have a pair of star ones, but I only wear those on a certain day, when I’m alone. I only keep them because they were my Mum’s, so they’re...” He trailed off, looking back down at his plate. He didn't want to think of her now. He couldn't handle crying in front of the others.

“Special,” Ell said in her soft voice. She reached out, her fingers finding the necklace he was wearing. It had been his mother’s too. “Special too?” She asked, blinking up at him.

“Yeah,” Billy looked down at the necklace, a small smile on his lips. “Really special.”

He was suddenly aware that everyone was staring at him, including Steve, and he stood up, muttering “_Gotta go to the bathroom_,” under his breath. He left the room, found the bathroom, and locked the door behind him.

He had been forgetting about her in the past few weeks. And once, that was all he ever wanted, but now he felt guilty. He only had a few things of hers left. The earrings and her necklace. The notebook had been lost in the move, and the tapes? Well, he had carelessly left them in the school parking lot. The tapes. Her voice, the last thing she gave him.

And his… His only safe place that wasn't in his head.

“Billy?” There was a knock on the door. He fumbled to answer, accidentally scattering some of the soaps that were neatly set up around the sink. It suddenly occurred to him he had been in there for quite a long time.

“Yeah?” He opened the door, saw Steve looking at him, and rolled his eyes. “Can I fucking piss in private, please?”

“You okay?” Steve asked. Billy rolled his eyes again, hand on the door handle.

“Yes, I’m fucking fine. Seriously, piss off.”

Steve didn't piss off. Instead, he scuffed his feet on the ground and rubbed his neck. “The kids, they’re done eating. Uh. I think Mrs Wheeler said there’s ice cream in the freezer that we’re allowed to have. If you wanted to,” He offered Billy a small smile.

“Yeah,” Billy nodded. “Okay.”

The night eventually came to an end when Karen and her husband returned. Billy instantly began to flirt, making everyone except for Karen roll her eyes. He got a lollipop though, so it was worth all the glares. One by one, the mothers (or fathers) came to pick up their kids. Joyce waved at Billy, and he winked back, making her stick her tongue out immaturely.

Billy had met a lot of Mum’s in his seventeen years, but Joyce? She was his favourite.

Except... Except for his own Mum.

“Time to go, Max,” Billy said. He pretended not to notice how she seemed flustered, and how Lucas had lip gloss smeared on his lip. He had been pretending not to notice a lot of things recently. She jumped up and planted a kiss on his cheek, making him blush and murmur out a goodbye. They were annoyingly a cute couple. Billy glared at Sinclair and waved goodbye to Karen, who giggled and ducked her head.

Steve was outside by his car, yet another cigarette in his mouth. Billy felt his pocket and realised that Steve had taken his smokes. He didn't get angry, or yell, like he used to. Instead, he calmly walked up to him and held his hand out. “Give back my smokes, dickhead.”

“You left them on the coffee table,” Steve said, smiling as he handed them back. “Fair game.”

“Yeah yeah, fuck off. How many did you take?”

“Like. One. I’ll buy you another pack, I was just craving, that’s all.”

“Careful now. Don't want Daddy finding out his golden boy smokes,” Billy teased, mockingly pouting. Steve sniggered.

“Yeah. Golden boy indeed. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Steve nodded at them as a goodbye and shouted for Dustin. Billy watched as Steve drove off, a stupid smile on his face. When he finally tore his eyes away from the empty road, Max was grinning up at him. He scowled.

“Shut it, brat,” He grumbled, unlocking his car.

“I didn't say anything!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eleven is fuckin adorable.


	18. Chapter 18

Neil finally let go of his softness a few days later, and slapped Billy so hard that his right ear was left ringing and his face had a bright red hand print. They shouted at each other for a few more minutes before Billy finally backed down. Neil grabbed his shirt and shoved him towards the door, telling him to come back when he could stop being such a fucking pussy.

Billy headed to the pub and managed to buy a bottle of vodka with his fake ID that he hadn't used since he had gotten to Hawkins. He sat on top of his car in the parking lot of some random office building, smoking and taking sips from the bottle.

The vodka tasted horrible and burned as it went down.

It felt good. He drank some more until he was blind drunk.

He woke up in the morning with a thumping headache and Steve Harrington bending over him, a worried look on his face. Billy groaned and covered his eyes from the sun, mumbling something even he didn't understand. When he turned his head, he discovered he was lying in front of Steve’s house squashing Mrs Harrington’s tulips.

_Oh no_, he thought. _Not the tulips!_

It was so absurd that he couldn't stop laughing, despite his hangover.

Because he couldn't (or maybe didn't want to because he was holding onto every bit of happiness he had) stop laughing, he ended up rolling onto his side and throwing up his empty stomach. Steve sighed, bent down, and held his blonde curls back. Billy stopped long enough to bat Steve’s hands away, only to wish he hadn't when he began to puke again and got vomit in his hair.

Steve brought him inside, somehow convinced him to sit on top of the kitchen bench, and started to make breakfast for him. It was nothing special, just a glass of juice (from Mr Harrington’s special glass) and a bowl of coco pops from a box that Billy noticed had barely been touched, but it felt like the best fucking thing Billy had ever eaten. He actually hadn't eaten anything since Friday except for a carrot and three small lollipops, so the freshness of the cereal and juice felt fucking great.

“Hungover?” Steve asked, handing him a mug of black coffee when Billy had drained the very last of his juice.

“Yeah,” Billy murmured, not wanting to be too loud. “It hurts. Wanna sleep. But I gotta go home.”

“How much of last night do you remember?” Steve continued to question him, putting the milk back into the fridge. It occurred to Billy how often they took care of each other while drunk or hungover, and he nearly smiled.

“Like. None. Flashes, I think,” He shrugged. “Fucked if I know.”

“Go and have a shower,” Steve sighed, pointing… Somewhere. Billy was too distracted to actually follow his finger with his eyes. “You can use the downstairs bathroom, and there’s shampoo and all that shit in there. I’ll bring you some clothes.”

Billy noticed that Steve seemed sad but didn't ask if he was okay. That wasn't his style. He quietly hopped off the bench, scratching his stomach as he made his way over to the bathroom.

When he began to peel the clothes off his body he realised that he was filthy. Covered in dirt, mud, and, fucking hell, vomit. On his hands, decorating his palms and fingertips, was blue paint. He narrowed his eyes. What the hell had _happened _last night?

His thumping headache somehow calmed down when he moved underneath the spray of the shower, basking in its warmth. He ran his hands along his face, a heavy sigh escaping him.

After washing his hair with the fancy shampoo and finding a packet of unused toothbrushes underneath the sink, he was finally feeling clean. He spat out the toothpaste and opened the door when he heard a knock. Steve held out a pair of tracksuit pants, a grey shirt, and a soft red sweater that Billy seemed to remember. “Here,” He said. “I’m gonna put your clothes in the wash.”

“Okay,” Billy agreed, putting on the shirt. He let the towel drop and turned around, his back facing Steve, and began to pull on the clothes. The jumper smelled like cinnamon. He resisted the urge to hold it to his nose and breath in until it was the only thing he could smell.

He did exactly that when he heard Steve walk away, sniffing it and smiling softly. He instantly felt a little disgusted with himself afterwards. That was kind of perverted.

What had happened last night? He searched through his broken memories, trying to find some sort of clue. All he remembered was getting hit and then going to buy some alcohol. How had he ended up on Steve’s lawn?

Whatever. It didn't really matter anyway. Billy had been wasted more times than he could count. Anything, anything at all that he did when he was drunk was easily overlooked because he was a ‘cool kid.’ It was nice, actually. Once, in Cali, Billy had been shoved around at school because he had gotten so high the night before and woken up half naked at the supermarket. Of course, he beat up the people that were making fun of him. But in Hawkins, nobody was going to make fun of him for getting high or drunk because it was so damn _cool_, apparently. Even Billy knew that.

He found Steve sitting on the stairs, smoking. He smirked when he saw Billy in his clothes. “Suits you. Looks like you’re actually dressing for the weather.”

It was spring. It was warm. Steve could suck it. He got cold easily, but Billy didn't.

“I hate you and everything you stand for,” Billy grumbled, which made Steve laugh.

“Yeah, sure you do,” Steve waited until Billy had sat down beside him before he put the lit cigarette in Billy’s mouth. Billy grinned, taking a deep breath and blowing the smoke out of his nose.

“I swear, I do. You give me a headache.”

“You give _yourself _a headache,” Steve pointed out. “It’s not my fault you’re hungover. You know what I reckon? You’re just grumpy because I make better cereal than you.”

“That is so not true,” Billy smoked the cigarette until it was down to the filter before he tossed it, just to annoy Steve. The other boy didn't do anything except for play with his lighter. It was cheap and plastic, making Billy wonder what had happened to Zippo. That thing had been cool. He had seen Steve playing with it multiple times. Once, the boy had gotten in trouble for playing with it in class and had had it taken away. He had pouted for the rest of the session, which made Billy laugh.

“Do you want to drive home now, or do you want to crash here for a bit? You can go upstairs, sleep off that hangover,” Steve clicked his fingers beside Billy’s ear, making the blonde groan and lean away.

“I’m gonna crash here,” Billy said. He stood up, stretched his arms, and rubbed his eyes tiredly. Steve stood as well. He tucked his lighter into his pocket and started to lead Billy all the way up the stairs. They passed the guest room that Billy had slept in before, the second guest room, his parents bedroom, yet another guest room, a bathroom, until they reached the end of the hallway. Billy’s eyes widened as Steve pushed the door open and stepped inside.

“Sweet dreams,” Steve said, brushing past the speechless Billy. The door was closed behind him and Billy was left in the dim light creeping through the plaid curtains.

Steve’s bedroom.

He was in Steve’s bedroom.

Why was Steve letting him sleep in his bedroom?

Billy gnawed on his bottom lip – a nervous habit he had been trying to stop for years – and reached out to touch the silky sheets. They had been changed since Billy had been in here last. Black satin with matching pillows. It didn't suit the room at all, but Steve apparently didn't care.

The only pillow that wasn't satin was a red one on the end of the bed, and it looked the most used, with a crinkled pillow case and a stain in the corner. It looked like the Steve had been sleeping the wrong end of the bed. He probably had. He had a whole bunch of little habits that Billy was beginning to notice.

He crawled onto the bed, lying his head down on the soft black pillow and nudging the red one at his feet over. It hit the floor with a thump. He would pick it up later.

The bed was incredibly comfortable, but it didn't smell like Steve. Or feel like Steve. And Billy should have been happy about that. Steve was a teenage guy, he probably sweated all over the damn covers. But after twenty minutes of tossing and turning, Billy leaned over the side of the bed and scooped up the red pillow. He hugged it to his chest, pulling the black sheets up over his shoulders so if Steve peeked in he wouldn't see that Billy was hugging his pillow, and sighed contently. The pillow smelt like Steve. It smelt like cigarettes, cinnamon, lavender soap and hairspray. It wasn't the greatest combination, in fact, it was kind of gross, but Billy dug his nose in further and bit back a smile.

Here he was. Lying in Steve’s bed, wearing Steve’s clothes, hugging Steve’s pillow. Like he had the right to. Like they were fucking boyfriends. They weren't, because Steve was straight. They weren't, because Billy was _supposed _to be straight.

They weren't, because who could love Billy Hargrove for his personality and not his looks?

All too soon, there were tears dripping down his cheeks and he let out a frustrated growl, wiping the salty water away with the sheets.

He didn't know how long he was asleep for, but he woke up once and it was dark outside. The clock read ten-fifteen and his headache was basically gone. With a sigh, he rolled over and clutched Steve’s pillow even tighter to his chest. He fell back asleep.

The next time he woke up, it was because he heard swearing outside his bedroom door. Growing up in a household like his, Billy had grown to be a naturally light sleeper. He glanced at the clock – just past three in the morning – and swung his legs off the edge of the soft, soft bed.

He opened the door, awkwardly wrapping his arms around himself, and stared at Steve, who was breathing heavily and clutching his hand. He looked up when he heard Billy open the door. “I… I need to clean this, right now.”

Billy stifled a yawn. “What do you need to clean?”

Steve didn't answer, he only turned around and rushed into the bathroom. Confused, Billy followed him and entered to see Steve washing his hand underneath the water.

“Jesus Christ, Harrington,” Billy said, spotting the huge cut on his hand. “How the fuck…?”

“I cut it. Accidentally,” Steve wrapped a large amount of toilet paper around it. He then fell still, staring up at the light for so long that Billy wondered if time had frozen or something.

“It’s attracted to blood,” Steve murmured, his voice sounding weird.

“_What_?”

“Huh?” Steve snapped out of his trance. “What? Sorry, I… Um. Sharks. Nancy told me some facts about… Sharks… A year or two back. They can smell blood. I’ve been… Um. Terrified of sharks. Ever since I found that out.”

“Uh huh,” Billy stared at him, confused. Steve looked visibly panicked, his hair wild and his eyes wide. Billy stepped forward, searching through some of the cupboards until he found a first aid box. He pulled out a bandage. “You know that sharks cant walk on land, right? And that we’re nowhere near an ocean? So, I think the sharks wont get to you here,” He teased. Steve laughed, shaking his head.

“You wouldn't understand.”

“Right. Actually, I think I would. I used to live in Cali. As crazy as it sounds, once a fucking shark swam right by me,” Billy knew it probably wasn't the best time for stories, but he noticed that Steve looked intrigued so he continued. “People were screaming at me and my friends to get out of the water, and I was just sorta floating there on my surfboard. I didn't want to get out. I don’t really like people telling me what to do much. Anyway, I ignore all these people shouting at me to get out because I’m waiting for the next wave, but then this siren sounds and I suddenly see a fucking shape in the water, underneath the board. People were screaming even louder, then, and I kind of froze. I pulled my legs up onto the board and could only stare, like, petrified or something. It wasn't really that big, to be honest, but I was _so _scared and I think a bunch of other people were too. I thought I was gonna die, man! But this shark, it ignores me and just swims off! Like, hello, am I not a good enough meal for you? Fucking _rude_.”

Steve burst out laughing, shaking his head. “Christ, Hargrove.”

“Come here,” Billy moved forward and wrapped the bandage around Steve’s hand, talking as he did so. “So, you’re scared of sharks, huh?”

“Totally. Fucking terrified of ‘em.”

“Right...” He finished wrapping up Steve’s hand and stepped back. They stared at other for a few minutes before Billy blurted out, “Why did you let me sleep in your bed?”

“I don't know,” Steve murmured. “I just did, I guess. I figured that I hadn't overstepped because you slept pretty well.”

“Your bed is comfortable,” Billy said. “Its fucking great, actually.”

“Yeah, I know. My Mum bought me the mattress last year when I said I was tired. She thought it was because I wasn't sleeping well enough so she tried to buy my love again,” He laughed bitterly. “Its a good bed, I just don't use it that much anymore.”

“I figured,” Billy reached out and stroked Steve’s eye bags without thinking. He tugged away like he had been burned, taking three big steps back. “I should get going, you know. So my Dad doesn't find out that I’ve been gone for two nights.”

Steve was silent for a few moments before he said, “I guess you should.”

“Where are my clothes?”

“Downstairs, in the white basket.”

Billy left the older boy alone in the bathroom. He walked down the stairs, feeling the need to be quiet, and found his clothes exactly where Steve had said they were. After pulling on his boots, he opened the door. There was a noise behind him and he turned, watching as Steve approached him with a blue bundle underneath his arm. “So you don't get cold,” He said, tossing the bundle at him.

Billy held back a smile, slipping off his denim jacket so he could put on the warm blue sweater that Steve had been wearing only a few minutes ago. Once that was done, he put his jacket back on.

Neither of them mentioned the fact that it really wasn't that cold outside.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, at school,” Steve said. “Drive safe.”

“Like you really care,” Billy smirked, crossing his arms and leaning against the frame of the door.

“I _do_! You’re my _best friend_, remember?”

Once they exchanged their goodbyes, Billy exited the house. His blue car was parked behind the shed and he clambered inside, closing the door and starting the engine. There was a bag in the backseat with some cans of spray paint in it, but he ignored it.

As soon as he was out of Steve’s sight, he took one hand off the steering wheel so he could hold the blue jumper to his nose, smiling.

Yes, it was gross, and perverse, and disgusting, but Billy couldn't help it. He had been wearing so much of Steve’s clothes lately, but this one… This one was so warm and smelt so much like Steve. Only minutes ago it had been hugged around around the older boys body, hanging loosely off his shoulders.

Billy, who had quite a bit more muscle than Steve, was surprised that the jumper fit him perfectly. It was probably decently oversized on Steve. The other boy was taller, yeah, but Billy was a lot more buff. He made a mental note to tease Steve about being a lanky noodle some time.

He arrived home, climbed in through his window, and managed to catch up on about three more hours of sleep before his alarm clock went off. Groaning, he rolled over turned it off, swinging his legs off the bed.

Neil was sitting at the kitchen table, a newspaper in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. He glanced up, not saying a word about Billy’s disappearance for the weekend. He instead just turned back to his newspaper and jerked his head at the lounge. “Susan wants the lounge reorganised. You’ll be doing that tonight.”

“Yes sir,” Billy sat down across from his father and poured himself a cup of coffee. “Maxine!” He shouted. “We’re leaving in half an hour!”

A moment later, a certain redhead exploded out of her room and threw herself at Billy. He toppled backwards in his chair, his head hitting the ground. He groaned. “Son of a bitch.”

“You asshole!” Max grumbled, sitting up beside him and seeming to forget that Neil was in the room. Billy shut his eyes and covered his face with his hands, feeling the coolness of the kitchen floor against his head.

“For fucks sake Maxine, don’t do that.”

“Watch your language, please,” Susan timidly said as she entered the room. Billy cracked open one eye to glare at her, watching as she planted a kiss to Neil’s cheek and sat down next to her husband.

“Where did you even go?!” Max snapped, regaining Billy’s attention. “Like, I was worried! Who else would give me lifts to the arcade?”

“Betcha Harrington would, he’s a fucking knight in shining armour to your brats. Though you do have a skateboard, you could always use that,” Billy pointed out. She rolled her eyes and stood up.

“Whatever. Don't disappear on me again,” With that, she stomped off to her bedroom. Billy sighed and clambered to his feet.

“Yes your Majesty,” He muttered, scowling as he stomped towards his bedroom to get ready for school.


	19. Chapter 19

Once Billy had dropped Max off at her middle school (she hadn't stopped chatting the entire fucking trip), Billy turned his car around and parked in his usual spot at the high school. He watched the students go past for a while, his legs propped up against the steering wheel and a cigarette in his mouth.

The students seemed to be excited about something, so he eventually hopped out of his car and walked towards the entrance of the high school. There was a group of them surrounding one of the walls, making it impossible to see anything until Billy moved closer.

He covered his mouth, trying desperately to hold back his laughter as he stared at the giant painting of a dick on the school wall.

Well. He was pretty sure he discovered what he had been up to a few nights ago. Memories suddenly filled his mind – apparently all they needed was a reminder – and the night was confirmed. He was the one who did it.

And damn, if that wasn't one of the funniest things he’d ever done.

There was a hand on his shoulder and he turned around, coming face to face with Steve, who’s eyes were dancing with amusement. “Who do you think did it?”

Billy couldn't speak, because he knew if he did he would burst out laughing. Instead, he just shrugged, chewing on the filter of his cigarette.

Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Byers appeared behind Steve. “I can’t believe somebody would do that,” Wheeler said, shaking her head in disappointment. “That’s destruction to school property. And really? Such a disgusting picture.”

“Totally,” Steve agreed, but he clearly didn't have the same views. _He _obviously thought it was funny, so Billy wasn't ashamed in the slightest at what he had done.

“It’s, uh,” Byers struggled to say something. “Not the most tasteful.”

Yeah, he definitely found it funny too.

“Mm,” Billy said, shaking with silent laughter. “Not… Not even, um, a good drawing,” He struggled to keep a straight face when the other three raised their eyebrows at him.

“It’s kind of funny though,” Steve muttered. He looked like he regretted it when Wheeler started to scold him.

“I cannot believe you find this ‘funny,’ Steve,” Wheeler said, scowling. “This is destruction of school property!”

“Nancy,” Byers tugged her arm. “Don’t worry about it. Whoever they are, they’ll end up getting caught. There’s an assembly today to find who did it anyway.”

“There is?” Billy asked in disbelief. The other three nodded and Billy held back more laughter.

Yeah. He wasn't going to make it through this damn assembly.

The hall was packed and a group of teachers stood on the stage, looking very grim as the principal spoke. Billy put his feet up on the chair in front of him – a girl turned to glare at him and he stuck his tongue out at her – and desperately tried to hold back his laughter.

Steve was beside him, playing with his lighter. He was clearly bored. Billy slumped in his seat, trying to block out the words the principal was saying, but he couldn't.

“And, uh, there was a very _crude _drawing spray painted on the side of the school today. If anyone has any information regarding the matter then please don’t hesitate to talk to us. The drawing of the, um, penis, isn't healthy for the students--”

Billy broke.

He exploded into laughter, causing everyone to turn and look at him. Steve stopped playing with his lighter and snorted as Billy tried to stop cackling.

“I so knew you did it,” Steve said when Billy managed to calm down a little.

Which obviously set him off _again_.

“Billy Hargrove, is it?” The principal asked, as if Billy wasn't in his office every other week. “Can you come and talk to me in my office?”

Billy covered his mouth, still laughing, and nodded. “Y-yes, sir,” He said, grinning. Beside him, Steve started to laugh as well, but he managed to cover it with a cough.

<><><><>

Billy’s parents were called.

The blonde sat in the waiting room, his arms crossed, his eyes narrowed, and a lit cigarette between his lips despite the fact that the secretary had already told him off twice for smoking on school premises. He could see Susan’s red hair through the window on the principal’s door. He glared at it, wishing it would burst into flames.

The drawing was no longer funny when Billy had realised the beating he was going to receive when he got home that night. The murderous look in Neil’s eyes when they sat in the waiting room together was enough to make Billy shrink.

“No smoking,” The secretary reminded. He glared at her and crushed the cigarette underneath his boot, leaving the butt there.

Finally, after what seemed like years, the principals office door opened. The principal, an old balding man at least sixty, beckoned at Billy. “You can come in now.”

Billy stood up and entered the office, avoiding his father’s stare. He sat down in between his Dad and step-mum on the hard wooden seat, staring down at the ground.

Neil said, “Why did you do it?”

“I was drunk,” Billy murmured honestly, fiddling with a piece of thread from his jeans. “It wont happen again.”

“Well I’d hope so,” The principal said, shaking his head in disappointment. “William, you’re suspended for two weeks and will stay after school tomorrow to clean up the graffiti. Your father has agreed with the punishment.”

_No_, Billy thought. _He’s only agreeing so he can get me home as soon as possible and beat some sense into me._

“Is that clear?”

“Uh huh.”

“William,” Neil snapped, his hand finding its way to Billy’s knee and squeezing so hard Billy winced. “He asked if that was clear.”

“Yes sir,” Billy spat, glaring around at all of them.

“The English teacher will drop some work by so you don't fall behind. Your son has good grades, at least,” The principal said, looking over at Neil, who smiled wryly.

_Its the only damn thing he’s proud of me for_, Billy thought.

“You’ll find the janitor out by the drawing. He’s got some cleaning supplies for you. If you run off with them then the police will be called and we will let the law take care of you.”

“Why would I wanna steal some damn cleaning supplies?” Billy snapped. “What, you think I’m gonna snort the soap or something?”

Steve would have laughed if he was with Billy. But he wasn't. Instead, Neil squeezed Billy’s knee harder and the blonde let out a little gasp. “Can I go now?” He asked, sounding strangled.

“You may return after school.”

_Five hours. Plenty of time for him to fucking KILL me._

The drive home was filled with yelling. Billy had wanted to drive home in his own car, but Neil probably thought he was going to drive away or something because he said no. Instead, Susan was following behind them in the midnight blue camaro while Billy was stuck in the front seat of his Dad’s pickup truck.

Something bad always happened when he was in his Dad’s truck.

“I don't even know why you thought that was a good idea!” Neil shouted, his hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly they were turning white. It looked kind of dumb with the guy’s bright red face. His face always went red when he was mad.

“I was drunk, okay? Lay off me!” Billy snapped, instantly regretting it when the car screeched to a stop.

“Of course you were drunk,” Neil growled. “You’re always bloody drunk. You think too much about having fun and not enough about your future. You’re an idiot, William. I wouldn't be surprised if the only reason you’re passing school is because you bully other kids or suck off teachers for good grades.”

“I would _never_\--”

“No, you would! You’re a fucking fag, William! A queer!”

“I’m not,” Billy insisted, angry tears pricking at his eyes. “I swear, Dad, I’m not gay...”

“I don't even know why I keep you around,” Neil continued. “_You’re bloody USELESS_!” The man roared, spit flying in Billy’s face.

“No I’m not,” Billy covered his face, trying to hide the tears. “I’m not useless.”

He suddenly felt a hand in his hair and let out a sharp cry of pain as his head was smashed against the window. Blood trickled down his cheek and Billy shakily touched it. He felt dizzy. He was going to pass out if his father did that again.

“You are useless,” Neil snapped.

Billy didn't even argue.

He returned to school when everyone was gone, a fresh layer of bruises covering his body as he limped towards the painting. Blood was leaking through his white shirt, staining it, but he hadn't had any time to clean himself up. The janitor was leaning against the wall, smoking. He didn't question Billy’s wrecked body. He instead just showed him how to clean the wall properly and threatened to call the police if Billy stole the supplies. Seriously. Why did people think he wanted to steal a rag and some fucking soap? Did they expect him to fuck them or something?

When the janitor was gone Billy got to work, wincing with every movement. His arm ached and his face throbbed with pain.

“Hey,” A soft voice said, and he turned around.

“Hi,” He said to Steve, who moved towards him.

“Get in the car,” The older boy said. “I’m taking you to hospital. This is the worst it’s ever been.”

“I’m not going to hospital,” Billy argued weakly, but he was pretty sure he was concussed and he knew it was probably the best thing to do. “I’m fine.”

“Billy,” Steve crossed his arms, his eyes full of sadness. “I’ve called the Party. They’re going to clean this as long as I buy them a months supply of KFC. I’m taking you to hospital.”

“I...” Billy’s shoulder slumped and he dropped the rag into the bucket. Water splashed over the edge. “How did you know I was here?”

“I figured you’d have to clean it. I was right,” Steve wrapped his fingers around Billy’s arm, but Billy yanked away from him with a wince. The brunette sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Come on, Billy. We’re going to the emergency room. You’ve probably got a concussion. Your head is bleeding!”

“Okay, okay,” Billy agreed sadly. He pressed his shoulder against Steve’s for no reason other than the fact he wanted to be close to the other boy, and refused to look up when he felt Steve let out a confused hum. _He was injured, okay? The world could give him a goddamn break and let him be close to his crush. _Only a few seconds later, though, Steve wrapped his arm around Billy’s shoulder and started to lead him towards his car.

They both got into Steve’s car in silence, pulling apart from each other. Billy searched the glove box for something to drink, found a flask, and managed to get a few sips in before Steve yanked it out of his hand. “No,” He scolded, almost like he was telling off a puppy who had peed on the floor. “You don't drink from my flask.”

“But it hurts!” Billy surprised himself when he whined. “Everything hurts, Harrington! Just let me--” He made a grab for the flask, but Steve waved it out of his reach.

“No,” Steve repeated.

That was the end of that.

They arrived at the hospital, entering the emergency room. Billy stayed silent as Steve told the nurse that Billy had been beaten up and probably had a concussion. The nurse, a pretty lady with big, sad eyes, instructed them to wait on the chairs until the doctor came in. Steve nodded and pulled Billy over to the waiting room.

They both sat down, listening to the clock tick. There were only a few other people in the room; a sobbing child with a skinned knee (_sook, _Billy thought), who was accompanied by a tired looking mother (“Baby, the doctors are only going to put a band-aid on it, we can do it at home,”). The last was a young woman who kept coughing. So far, it seemed like Billy had the most serious injuries.

The world began to swirl and he swayed to the side, his shoulder falling against Steve’s. The other boy looked down at him. “Billy? You okay?” He asked. His voice sounded like Billy was underwater.

“Think… Pass out...” Billy mumbled, holding his head and panting for breath. “My chest… Cant… It _hurts_!”

He felt himself hit the floor.


	20. Chapter 20

All too soon, Billy felt himself being pulled into consciousness. “Can you tell me your name?” A blurry face appeared, leaning over him, and he blinked. “Can you tell me your name?” The voice repeated. A woman.

_We don't like women,_ a voice in his head hissed. _They always leave._

“Billy Hargrove,” Billy murmured. He covered his eyes with his hands but then pulled them away when his entire face throbbed.

“We’re going to need someone to clean this,” The voice said, her face turning away for a second before she looked back down at him. “Okay, good. Can you tell me what year it is?”

_1984? No. Isn’t it… _“1985,” Billy said. He let out a wince when he felt something cold pressed to his forehead. “Where’s… Steve?”

_Steve-Steve-Steve-Steve-Steve_, his head chanted.

“I’m right here,” A familiar voice said. “You’ve got a concussion, Billy. But you’re okay.”

_We’re hurt. Who hurt us?_

_Dad hurt us._

_He hurt us because we’re useless._

“My head… It hurts,” Billy groaned. He squeezed his eyes shut. “Lights too bright. Make it _stop_!”

“Billy, we’re going to put something on your eyebrow, okay? It’s going to sting a little, alright?” The nurse asked. Her face became a little clearer. “I think some of your cuts are infected, but specifically this one. Have you been rubbing it in dirt?”

Billy thought of being shoved to the ground in the backyard, the belt hitting his back. He had turned around at one point to beg for mercy, only to have the belt slice directly through his eyebrow. He technically hadn't been deliberately rubbing it in dirt, but it had been on the ground.

“Get his shirt off,” A nurse ordered. Something cold touched his eyebrow and he whimpered, batting the hands away as the cut began to sting.

“No,” He whined. “Not good.”

He closed his eyes again.

<><><><>

Steve stood away from the bed, his back against the wall as he watched the doctors moving around him. They were almost forming a wall, meaning that Steve couldn't see through.

“Is he okay?” He asked one of the older nurses, a lady called Joan that had been trying to clean Billy’s eyebrows before. She nodded.

“Some of his cuts are infected, it’s almost like he’s been rolling around on the ground. We haven't checked the rest of his body yet, but I think we’re going to have to cut his shirt off. He’s too heavy for a lot of us to lift, and its a little easier for us right now if he’s passed out. We’ll wake him up when we’re done.”

Steve nodded, wringing his hands together. Joan was called back over and she obeyed, joining the group gathered around Billy’s bed.

Somebody said, “Holy shit,” and Steve looked up. He pushed past one of the doctors and stared at the passed out Billy. His back was nearly completely covered with slashes – from a whip, maybe? – and most of them had reopened in the fuss.

That son of a bitch.

Neil had done that to him.

“Stop, hurts,” Billy murmured when somebody started to clean his back. He pressed his face into his pillow and let out a cry of pain. “Ow! _Hurts_!”

“We’re going to need you to leave the room for now,” Somebody said, gripping Steve’s arm. He let himself be pulled out, staring at Billy’s back as he did.

He was out in the waiting room for nearly three hours. The Party joined him, and Max’s eyes were red like she had been crying. “It was a belt,” She whispered to Steve. “I got home. I saw. Neil shouted at me to get inside. Billy was on the ground.”

Steve wrapped his arm around her shoulders and let her cry.

“He’s asleep,” Joan said when she entered the waiting room and saw the look Steve was giving her. “But you’re welcome to go sit with him, as long as you don't wake him up. Two at a time though.”

“I’m going in,” Max stood up, glaring around at them all as if they wanted to fight her for her spot as a visitor. She grabbed Lucas’s hand. “You’re coming with me.”

“I come too?” Ell stood up. She glanced at Mike and whispered something in his ear. He rolled his eyes, but nodded, turning to whisper to Dustin as well.

The nurse pulled Steve aside. “Look, I know an abused kid when I see one,” She said. “Who was it? His mother? Father? Maybe an older sibling?”

“His Dad,” Steve blurted out without thinking. “But you cant let him know you know. He’s really, uh, sensitive about it.”

“And you are… His boyfriend?”

“What-- Friend!” Steve scowled. Joan nodded, looking apologetic.

“Okay, I was only asking because I saw the words on his arm, alright? Look, here,” She handed him a card. “I have a friend who’s a social worker. Maybe you can convince your friend to give her a call. She can get him out of there and into a foster home. It’ll be good for a guy like him.”

Steve looked down at the card. “Okay,” He said. “Thanks. I’ll try.”

“Good,” She patted his shoulder. “We have a limit of two at a time but, uh,” She glanced around. “Carla goes on her break in five minutes. If you were to sneak in with your kids, then, well a blind eye _could _be turned. Don't get used to it though. Special case.”

“Thank you,” He smiled. “Thank you so much.”

“Don’t mention it, kiddo.”

Steve returned to the waiting room to find Ell, Dustin, Will and Mike left there. “Do you guys want to come in or not?” He asked. “We’re gonna sneak. Like ninjas.”

They discovered Billy talked in his sleep a lot.

It was a habit he was apparently trying to get out of. Max, after she stopped worrying, told The Party a story about how once she had had a fifteen minute conversation with Billy about rabbits, bread buns, and the similarities between them while Billy was fast asleep. While she told them that Billy actually adored rabbits (“He said they were, and I quote, ‘_The cutest things I’ve ever seen, Max_,’”), Billy continued to mumble incoherent nonsense under his breath. His hands twitched every now and again, and sometimes he would roll over and shove his face into the pillow.

Steve tried to act natural. He paid attention to the stories, laughed when the kids laughed, tried not to pay too much attention to Billy, but in reality he was screaming inside. Billy had become one of his closest friends… He already went through so much shit. What if the blonde never woke up? What if he did wake up only to forget everything about himself?

“I’m going to go and get some food from the vending machine, okay?” Steve stood up. The kids murmured agreements, telling him what they wanted. Ell was the only one who asked if he was okay. Steve looked down at his foot that he couldn't stop tapping and his red fists because he had been scrunching them up too much, and nodded.

“Fine. You wanted M&M’s, right?” Without waiting for an answer, he slipped out the door and closed it behind him.

When he returned, the room was silent compared to the five kids that had been talking before. Max sat in the chair Steve had been in before, her face red. The kids all looked up when Steve dumped the pile of food on the floor in front of them. “What?” He asked, his eyebrows raised. “What did you do?”

“Nothing,” Max squeaked. “Um. Hi Steve.”

“Steve?” Billy murmured in his sleep.

“What’s your favourite food, Billy?” Max interrupted. He mumbled something about milkshakes before rolling onto his stomach with a sigh. He didn't answer anymore questions after that. Max looked around at everyone, her face still as red as a tomato. “See? I told you he answers questions in his sleep.”

“I cant believe he thinks I’m an annoying nerd!” Dustin complained, hastily grabbing all the chocolate bars.

“You _are _an annoying nerd,” Steve replied. “Did you ask about me?”

All kids simultaneously started to stutter responses, clearly embarrassed. Steve raised an eyebrow as Will blurted out “N-no! We, uh, no,” at the same time Lucas said that they had but Billy hadn't answered.

“You do know you’re all horrible liars, right?” He said. “Never mind, I don't even want to know. Anyway, eat up kids, I’m not buying anymore and I don't want Dustin eating it all.”

When Steve arrived home that night he headed straight over to his phone. He dialled a number and held the phone to his ear.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Chief, it’s Steve. I need you at the hospital tomorrow. It’s about Billy and his Dad, Neil Hargrove.”

<><><><>

Steve was up to tape number 43. There was a glass of wine in his hand and an unlit cigarette behind his ear.

Apparently all Billy could talk about was his crush.

“_He’s so gorgeous, Mamma. And so damn cute. Its like he’s grabbed me, and, uh, forgive me for sounding like a poet here, it’s like he’s grabbed me and chained himself to my heart. Like, I know its wrong. I _know _I should stop myself from liking – no – _loving _him, but I cant. I cant pull away from him, Mum. And I hate myself, I really hate myself, but how could anybody not love him? But I hurt him, Ma. I hurt him all the time, and I cant stop. I just. I’ll do anything for his attention. He’s like a… a-- an obsession. I love him. _I love him_. And I cant just stop, no matter what. But… He doesn't like me like that. Hell, I don't even think he likes me at all. He’s a drug I can only ever get tastes of, which means I shouldn’t be this damn addicted, but I am. I want more. I want so much more than just being able to see him. I want him to love me. I want him to fucking touch me. _I love him and he doesn't care_.”_

Steve took a big gulp of wine, a heavy sigh escaping him. If only Billy’s crush could really get to know the boy. His mind flipped back to those weeks ago, where he was doing almost exactly the same thing. Alcohol in his hand, Billy’s voice in his ears, jealously filling his big, stupid heart. He had been so drunk that he had believed that Jonathan was Billy’s crush – still a likely possibility – and had gone to tell Jonathan exactly that. He could remember most of the night clearly, but tried to avoid the memory.

Billy was a drug to Steve like Billy’s crush was to Billy. An obsession. A guilty pleasure that Steve couldn't pull away from.

The boy poured himself another glass of wine when he finished listening to 43. He gulped it down and then decided that he shouldn't have another. Instead, he put the bottle back where he found it and flopped on the couch.

He closed his eyes for only a few minutes, only to be awoken by the phone ringing. He stood up, groggily speaking into the phone. “Hello?” He asked, exhausted and for the first time in a while, just wanting to go back to sleep.

“Oh, sorry, did we wake you?” His mother’s shrill voice asked.

“Yeah, you, uh, yeah you did,” Steve glanced back at the couch. It looked comfortable, and he was tempted to hang up on his parents, but they rarely called so he was curious. “Whats up? Why are you ringing?”

“We’re going to be gone for another six months, sweetie--”

“_Six months_?” Steve repeated, unsure if he had heard correctly. “I don't have enough money to even last another week, you left like, nothing--”

“We’ll be sending some over…” His mother was silent for a few moments as somebody talked in the background before she continued to speak to Steve. “We’ve got to go, Steven, we’ll be back in six months, maybe more – I know, I’m sorry – but call me tomorrow? We’ll send some money through to your bank account every Monday--”

Steve slammed the phone back down onto the hook, pressing his back against the wall and sliding down until he was sitting on the floor. He let out a frustrated scream, hitting the nearest thing, which happened to be the table that the phone sat on. He hit it a few more times.

“Six months!” He screamed to no one. “I’m by myself for _six_. _Fucking_. _Months_!!”

After a frustrated screaming session, he crawled back onto the couch, even more exhausted than before. He curled up underneath his blankets, pressing his face into the pillow and trying to sleep.

The next day, Steve got up when the sun began to rise. He made himself some coffee, drained it, then made himself another cup and actually savoured it.

Billy had woken up when Steve got to hospital. He was sitting up in bed and talking to one of the nurses. His eyebrow had a white band-aid over it, and his back was all dressed up in white bandages. He wasn't wearing a shirt, so all of his bruises and cuts except for the ones on his legs and the ones that had to be covered with bandages were visible. Steve waved when he entered the room, a milkshake clutched in his hand. Strawberry, of course.

“Hey,” Steve greeted. “I brought you a milkshake.”

“I’ll leave you two to it. Remember to press this button if you need anything,” The nurse leaned over and guided Billy’s hand to a button beside his bed and he nodded. He was smiling, but it seemed strained. He looked tired. So fucking tired.

“Thanks,” He murmured. He waited until the nurse was gone before he held his hand out to Steve. “Gimme the milkshake, Harrington.”

Steve pressed it into his hand and sat down on the chair beside him, watching as Billy slurped from the straw. “You look better,” Steve offered. Billy mumbled something and leaned back against the pillows.

“I, uh, snuck you in some smokes,” Steve handed them over and Billy tucked them underneath his pillow. Steve continued to speak. “I… I think we need to talk.”

“’Bout what?”

“I called Hopper. He’s arresting your father if he gets anywhere near you--”

“_What_?!” Billy sat back up. He slammed the milkshake down onto the table and reached out, grabbing Steve’s shirt and pulling the boy towards him. “What the fuck is wrong with you?! The cops! You called the fucking police?!”

“Well, uh, yeah,” Steve calmly wrapped his hands around Billy’s and pried the blonde off of his jacket. “Billy, it’s okay--”

“I’m not going back to a foster home!” Billy covered his face with his hands, tangling his fingers in his blonde curls and tugging roughly. “I can’t handle that. It’s horrible. I think I’m safe and then, boom, I’m back there and it’s worse than ever… I can’t fucking do that anymore. Get built up only to fucking push me over again.”

“You’re not going to a foster home,” For the second time, Steve grabbed Billy’s hands and pried them off something. “You’re coming to live with me. My parents are going to be gone for six more months, hell, maybe more. My house is empty. And Neil isn't going to be arrested unless he does something to hurt you. Billy, this is a good thing, okay?” Steve rubbed his thumb in circles around Billy’s palm. “I’m not building you up. You can move into my spare room. I-- You could take my room, if you’re more comfortable there. There’s like, a bunch you can choose from. We’ll be like roommates!”

There was fear in Billy’s eyes. The boy was obviously trying to keep himself together, but Steve could see through his pretence. He was scared. He was worried. He was panicking.

“Like roommates?” Billy said slowly. “He’s, uh, not arrested?”

“Not arrested,” Steve confirmed. “Not unless he does something.”

“You know I hate pity, right?”

_Well, I already waste too much pity on myself, I have to give some out. _“I’m not pitying you,” _Lies_. “I’m _helping _you. Because all jokes aside, Billy, you are my friend. For real. And, um,” _Friends don’t lie. I feel sorry for you_. “And friends help each other. So please, for fucks sake, can you just accept some goddamn help?”

“Okay,” Billy sighed. “I… Okay. I trust you.”


	21. Chapter 21

The hospital was quieter at night.

Billy sat beside the window, watching the cars drive past. He wasn't allowed to smoke in the hospital, but that didn't matter to him. There was a lit cigarette between his lips, the ash falling onto either his lap or the windowsill. To avoid setting the smoke alarms off, Billy was blowing the smoke out the window.

His hand tingled from where Steve had held it earlier.

Somebody coughed outside his doorway and he quickly put out the cigarette, hiding the filter and climbing back into the hospital bed, tugging the covers over himself. The door opened and he squeezed his eyes shut, pretending to be asleep.

Footsteps entered the room, and there was another cough. Billy peeked through his eyelashes at the doctor. “Aren’t you supposed to come in during the day?” He asked the man.

“Just wanted to check on you,” The doctor replied. “You weren’t… Smoking, were you? We do have smoke detectors in the rooms.”

“Let me sleep, old man,” Billy sassed back, putting the pillow over his head and shutting his eyes. He heard the doctor sigh before the footsteps left the room.

Once the man was gone, Billy lit another cigarette.

Billy was released from the hospital a few days later with painkillers that he couldn't fucking _wait _to get high off, and stitches in multiple parts of his body, including his eyebrow and back.

Steve was in the waiting room, a box of steaming food sitting on the chair beside him. Billy grinned and snatched it up, peeking through the lid. “Nice. Chinese food.”

“Have you signed your release forms and all that?” Steve questioned, ignoring Billy scarfing down the food like he hadn't eaten in years. The hospital food sucked, to be honest, so the Chinese food tasted like heaven in his mouth.

“Yeah, yeah. We’re all right to go. Can we leave or not? I wanna go back to your place and get drunk.”

“It’s your place too,” Steve reminded. “Well, now it is. Um. Me and the kids have moved some of your stuff into the spare room – your room now. Max snuck your stuff out the window. You have a _lot _of books.”

The car ride was silent. When they arrived at the top of the driveway, Billy spotted the blue front of his camaro parked in the shed. Steve pulled up beside it and killed the engine. “I took your keys when you were asleep,” He said, sounding sheepish. “Jonathan drove it here. Somebody was going to smash it up if it stayed in the school parking lot, so--”

“Thanks,” Billy interrupted. It was a blessing to see his precious car safe. She was his only ticket out of here.

Inside, the first thing Billy noticed was the mountain of pillows and blankets on the couch. “I’ve been sleeping on the couch,” Steve explained. “My bedroom, it just feels too small sometimes. Like there’s not enough exits, but too many places to hide and ambush me, and… I don't know, man. Sorry, I’ll move my stuff back up to my bedroom.”

“No, I get it,” Billy said. “My bedroom feels like its too small as well. There’s only two ways out. The door and the window. But fuck, what can I do about it? If my old man caught me sleeping on the couch, he’d get pissed as fuck,” Billy looked out the window, remembering the time he came home late, wasted, and had collapsed on the first soft thing he had seen. Neil had woken him up in the morning by dragging him off the couch by his foot.

They both sat down, Billy comfortably throwing his knees over the side of the couch and lighting a cigarette like he owned the place, and Steve, who _actually _owned the place, sitting awkwardly with his hands on his knees.

Steve asked, “Are you in pain?” and Billy responded with a simple no.

That was a lie. His eyebrow was beginning to sting again and his back ached for mercy from where he had it pressed against the back of the couch. He made a mental note to sleep on his stomach for the next few days.

Finally, Billy mumbled, “It feels strange.”

“What?” Steve replied, glancing up from where he was toying with a loose piece of thread on his jeans.

“Being… Free. Like I don't have to look around my shoulder when I’m at home, because… Because I live here now? I’ll get a job, and find a way to pay rent, I swear.”

“Yeah, don’t sweat it,” Steve replied with a casual wave. “My parents are literally gone for six months. It sucks, but… Ha. I don't miss them.”

His voice sounded weird. Billy believed him when he said that they were gone, and he believed him when he said it sucked, but the boy was lying about something. “No,” Billy said. “You do miss them. Its okay.”

“I mean, I don't know why,” Steve started to play with the thread again. He didn't even try to fight the fact that he missed his parents. “They never stick around. They’re always here one moment and gone the next. I’m used to it, you know? But… But this time I have a solid six months that they for sure wont be coming back. Which is the longest they’ve ever been gone. Hell, they’ll probably be gone for longer. And its weird, because it feels like I’m missing somebody I never properly knew? Its fucking weird. And it sucks. I’ve never actually wanted them back before.”

“I get that,” Billy tipped his head back and took a long drag of his cigarette. “I miss my Dad.”

“You… What?”

“My Dad. My Mum, she said he was once a lovely man. I never got to see the guy she fell in love with,” He squeezed his eyes shut. “I only ever saw a monster. I know what its like to miss someone you’ve never met.”

“You look happier when you speak about your Mum,” Steve murmured. Billy opened his eyes.

“Yeah, well,” He shrugged. “I miss her too. Except, its worse than my Dad because I knew the real her.”

“What was she like?” Steve’s voice sounded weird again, but Billy decided not to press it.

“She liked stars,” Was all Billy said before he stood up with a groan and grabbed his packet of cigarettes off the table. He needed another. Smoking was like goddamn air to him.

His Mum used to say it was bad, that smoking caused cancer and only made problems worse.

He was careless, he was useless. He lost the tapes, he lost her voice, he lost his happy place. If he was to get cancer, so fucking be it.

Steve didn't say anything. Instead, he stood up and returned with a glass of juice in Mr Harrington’s special cup. Billy accepted the juice without a fuss, but scowled when Steve handed him only one pill of the pain medication. “Cant I have two?” He asked, silently cringing when it came out a whine.

“No, the doctor said anymore than one in an hour would make you high.”

“Uh, yeah, that’s kind of the _point_.”

Steve glowered and shoved the pill into Billy’s mouth, making the boy embarrassingly cough and splutter before he chugged the glass of juice. Half of the pill had dissolved on his tongue, and he was now stuck with the taste, so he shoved the glass back at Steve. “I want more.”

“I told you, you cant have more pills until at least an hour--”

“No, shithead, more juice. The pill tasted like shit.”

“Hang on,” Steve grabbed his jacket off the coat hook and dug through the pockets before pulling out three brightly wrapped candies. “Here,” He tossed them at the blonde, who scrambled to catch them all and only managed to get one. The other two bounced off the floor and he scooped them up.

The first flavour was raspberry. He savoured its sweetness with his eyes closed and his head tilted up the ceiling. Beside him, he was ninety percent sure that Steve was slowly drifting off to sleep. Steve’s hair was brushing against Billy’s wrist. It wasn't exactly as soft as Billy thought it would be.

“Harrington?” He whispered, opening his eyes and looking down at the guy, who was lying down with his head pressed against Billy’s knee. “Are you asleep?”

He didn't get a response, so decided not to press it. Steve needed to sleep. Hell, Billy needed to sleep as well. Hospital beds were always too uncomfortable, too tight. He had gotten a decent amount of sleep only when they gave him medication for it. Most of the time he was in too much damn pain.

He shut his eyes again and crunched up the raspberry candy so he didn't choke on it, and let himself drift off to sleep.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter, yall

Billy awoke a few hours later with a groan, his back throbbing again. “It hurts,” He mumbled. “Fucking… Hurts...” His head began to hurt as well and he scrambled up, accidentally waking up Steve in the progress.

“Hey,” The other boy said. “Are you… Okay?”

“Yeah,” Billy rubbed his head. “Yeah I just… Yeah.”

“Do you need some more painkillers?”

Billy thought about all the times his father had beaten him up worse than this. He thought about getting by fine without the medication then, and he thought about that time he managed to survive three days with a broken finger after Neil had slammed it in a door. He had only gone to the hospital because he had arrived at school and the school nurse had been worried.

That was the second time he was taken away by social services.

They gave him back after a few weeks, when he was caught smoking pot behind the shed. Neil had been waiting outside, a new woman on his arm.

Billy waited for her to leave. He waited for her to run once she discovered what a piece of shit his Dad was. He waited for her to get out, because she could, and he couldn't.

Instead, the woman had stuck around, and only a few months later Billy was helping the woman move in, a ring on her pale white finger and a daughter cuddled up to her dress.

His mind was drifting again, so he pulled himself back into reality. “You know the only reason I accepted those pills is so I could get high off them right? Like, there’s no other reason.”

Steve yawned, revealing his white teeth. “Mm,” He agreed. “So pills or nah?”

“Nah. I’ll be fine.”

Later that night, Billy stood in front of the mirror in the downstairs bedroom. He was wearing nothing but a pair of black tracksuit pants. His back was still covered in gashes. His face was swollen, with bruises hiding the tan colour of his skin. His eyebrow had stitches in it.

He couldn't help it when he slumped down against the wall, his eyes filling with tears. If Steve hadn't been in the other room, he would probably be screaming and kicking things. But Steve was there.

That was okay. Billy knew how to cry silently.

He tugged at his hair and buried his face in his knees. The whispers that were always at the back of his mind began to grow louder, and he sucked in a deep breath.

_Steve’s out there._

_Oh no._

_Our Dad is going to find us!_

_Is Steve okay?_

_Oh no…_

_Dad is going to kill us!_

There were suddenly hands on his face and he looked up, staring directly into Steve’s brown eyes. Hastily, he wiped his tears away and crossed his arms. “How the fuck did you get in here?”

“You seem to forget I’ve lived here my whole life. I know all sorts of tricks around this house,” Steve said, offering him a small smile. He rubbed his thumb along Billy’s cheek and the blonde leaned into the touch, dropping his gaze to the floor. “Do you want to talk about it?” Steve murmured.

No. No, he didn't want to talk about. Did talking ever goddamn help?

“I want my tapes back,” Billy whispered, even though he knew he would make no sense to Steve. “I just… I need my Mum’s voice again. I can’t hear the real thing, but… A recording… It was… It had her voice.”

“What happened to her?” Steve asked.

“She killed herself,” Billy found himself saying. “Dad used to hit her a lot. He hit me too, but mostly her. He used to hit her because there was this one guy she hooked up with, like, ages ago. And Dad thought she was with him again. Maybe she was. I… I don't know. One day, she must have had enough. She ran away from him, from… From me. And I called her, every day, and begged her to come back,” Tears were running down his face now, but he did nothing to stop them. Let Steve see. Let Steve see his vulnerability. Why the fuck did he even care anymore? “But she didn't. She couldn't come back. Until nearly a month. Dad found her again, and… He got her back. I still don't know how. He probably wowed her or something. He was always… Charming, when he wanted to be. And… For one week, everything was okay. My Mum used to talk about running away a lot, you know? Like, to me. When it was just us sitting on the beach. But that was the first time she had gone through with her plan, so everything was so fucking… Unreal. When Dad got her back, we were pretending everything was normal. We had… We had family dinners, and vanilla ice cream for dessert,” Billy smiled as he remembered the sweet taste of the strawberry on his tongue. “Every night, for one week. It was the best week of my life. We’d go out to the beach after dinner, and get strawberry milkshakes, and it was great, it was so great.”

Steve wasn't saying anything. He only wiped a tear away from Billy’s cheek with his thumb and settled comfortably between the blonde’s knees. Billy barely noticed. He continued to speak.

“I could surf, so damn good. My Mum could too, but she was always worried about rip tides and all that. It was kind of funny, how worried she was. And me, Dad, and her, we had all just arrived home from the beach one night, exactly one week after Dad had gotten her back and… I noticed that… She seemed off. Distant. Like, like the happiness was gone from her eyes. So the next day, I’m about to leave for school and she stopped me. She said she loved me, and I said I loved her too. I should have known, you know? I should have bloody well known. I think… I think a part of me did know, though. But I didn't do anything about it.”

“You were a kid,” Steve said. He moved his hand down and tangled his fingers with Billy’s. It was comfortable there. Neither one pulled away. “You were just a kid.”

“Yeah but… I don't know. I get home, and my Dad is drunk again, but the feeling isn't right. He’s talking about calling the cops, then sort of laughing, then talking about an ambulance? And… I see blood coming out from underneath the bathroom door. I see so much fucking blood. I pick the lock to the door, and Dad is screaming at me not to go in there, but I do. And she’s there. The bath is overflowing. She’s lying there. There’s blood everywhere.

“And I… It was a blur a few days after that. Dad got a new girlfriend only three days after the funeral. I found a Walkman under my bed. My Mum, she had recorded You Are My Sunshine. And… Her speaking. I miss her. I miss her so much. I just… Even just her voice again, just that song, just those words of love that she fucking spoke to me, that’s all I want. I just want those tapes back.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve whispered. His own eyes were filled with tears.

“Its not your fault,” Billy replied. He tugged his hand away from Steve’s and looked away.

“No,” The boy continued. “I’ve got them. I’ve got your tapes. I don't know why the hell I didn't give them back before, I guess I just liked seeing a vulnerable side of you. So I kept them. They’re under my bed. You can have them back.”

Billy stared at him.

He felt empty.

A few moments passed before Billy lunged forward, knocking the other boy aside and storming upstairs. He slammed open Steve’s bedroom door and wasted no time in crawling under the big bed. The familiar blue backpack was sitting there, zipped neatly shut. He grabbed it, squirmed back out, and held it to his chest.

He didn't even know if he was angry.

All he could do was hug the backpack with all his tapes in it and cry.

Footsteps sounded from the hall and he put the tapes calmly back down on the floor, standing up. Steve stood at his doorway, looking guilty. “I’m sorry,” He repeated. “I’m so sorry.”

“You piece of shit,” Billy said. He scrunched his hands into fists and scowled at Steve. “You stupid piece of shit. Did you listen to them?”

_Does Steve know?_

_I think he knows._

_Will he tell Dad?_

_Not Steve, he wouldn't!_

_Maybe he would though._

_Dad is going to kill us!_

Steve didn't answer. He only lowered his gaze to the floor, sighing. Billy growled, stomping forward and slamming Steve against the wall. “How much do you know?!”

“I...” Steve squeezed his eyes shut. “I know why you moved to Hawkins. I know you miss like your Mum like crazy. I know you’re in love.”

Billy stepped backwards. He dropped to his knees and covered his face with his hands. “Don’t tell anyone,” He whispered. “Please. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I’m like this, but I cant goddamn help it. I’ll leave tonight.”

“Billy...” Steve tried to touch the blonde, but Billy jumped up and slammed Steve against the wall again.

“_You piece of shit_!” He screamed in Steve’s face. “_I hate you, I hate you so fucking much_!”

He didn't even know if that was true.

The truth was, he loved Steve. He didn't want to, he wished he could change it, but he couldn't. He was in love with those gorgeous hair, and his smile, and his stupid fucking hair. He was in love with Steve’s kind heart, his dorky side he tried to keep hidden, his dumb brain. He was in love with every fucking bit of Steve, and he couldn't stop it.

He wasn't even sure if he wanted to.

“I’m sorry!” Steve shouted. “There’s nothing wrong with you being gay, but I--”

“So you know I have a crush on you!” Billy shoved the boy to the ground, towering over him. “So fucking what? I don't care! I have a crush on you, Harrington! Tell everyone, I DON’T GODDAMN CARE!”

“You...” Steve froze, a strange look flashing across his face. “You what?”

“Don’t act like you don't know it,” Billy turned away, trying to hide his tears of frustration. “I’m in love, I’m in love with you. I said it, on the tapes, at the very end, right before I bloody lost them. I said, I love you, Steve fucking Harrington. Are you goddamn happy?”

“I-- I didn't know...”

There it was again. That look.

The thing was, Billy had spent most of his time when he was in Hawkins watching Steve. He had come to discover that Steve wore his heart on his sleeve most of the time. He had different expressions for almost every emotions. Happy, sad, scared, if you knew Steve, you could tell how he was feeling ninety percent of the time.

Steve had a look, a confused look, that he used when teachers asked him questions he didn't understand. It was the same look Steve used when the kids started talking about their nerdy stuff. It was the same look he used when he misheard somebody.

Billy didn't have looks. He didn't wear his heart on his sleeve. But even he knew that at that moment, he looked terrified. He could feel the colour draining out of his face, his eyes going wide, though he did nothing to stop them. His hands started to shake and the whispers in his head grew louder and louder.

“What…?” He croaked out. “You listened to the tapes. Of course you know.”

“I’m onto the second last one,” Steve said. “I didn't… I’m sorry-- I just… You love me?”

Billy fell to his knees, covering his face with his hands. “I’m sorry,” He whispered. “I cant help it.”

“And… Its not bullshit?”

“Its right fucking queer and faggy of me, that’s what it is,” Billy muttered, digging his nails into his forehead. “I’m fucking sorry.”

There were hands over his and he looked up. Steve was close – too close for comfort – and had a sad look in his eyes. “Jesus Christ, Billy,” He cupped the blonde’s face. “Its okay. I can’t believe you thought that I-- Its okay, its better than fucking okay.”

“I get that you don't care about gay people,” Billy tugged his face away from Steve’s warm hands. “But its one thing to be okay with their presence, and another to have a queer crushing on you. Especially when you’re straight. I get it. I’ll… I’ll leave. I’ll just go back to my Dad.”

Without waiting for Steve to answer, Billy stood up. He grabbed his backpack, zipping it up, and slung it over one shoulder. He tried not to glance back at Steve. He really did.

But Steve whispered something and the blonde couldn't help but turn around. He looked down at the older boy, tears staining his face. “What was that?” Billy asked, tilting his head.

Steve stood up, moved hastily towards Billy, and slammed their lips together.

_Oh_, Billy thought dumbly. _He’s kissing me. This is nice._

It wasn't a great kiss. It was too rough, and Billy was standing in an uncomfortable position, and Steve’s foot was on top of his, and both of their faces were wet from tears, but Billy melted against Steve’s touch. He tugged at the other’s shirt collar, closing his eyes and moving along in rhythm to Steve. Steve’s hands found their way to his waist and he pressed forward, letting his hands slide into Steve’s stupid hair.

And damn.

Billy didn't know what to fucking do with himself when Steve finally pulled away, his face flushed.

His mind came up with at least three different things to say, all of them sexy and probably something that he would use if he hadn't just _kissed Steve fucking Harrington_!

_Can you do other things with your mouth_, was one Billy thought of.

Now _I know why those bitches called you King Steve, baby, because you’re one of the best goddamn kissers I’ve ever seen_, was another.

Instead, what came out was, “Um.”

“I have a crush on you too,” Steve said, awkwardly scratching his head. “Is that okay?”

_Yes, yes it’s okay, of course it’s fucking okay-- _“Um...”

Steve poked Billy’s nose and the blonde batted him away. “Did I break you, Billy?” Steve teased, but he actually had a worried look in his eyes.

If Billy wasn't so flustered, he would probably pretend to faint right about now. “No, you… I just… Um.”

“Maybe we could hang out?” Steve continued. “Like, I guess we’re already hanging out though? But I mean, like, maybe a date? I like dates, we could like, uh, go to the movies or something. Or maybe the quarry? How do you take boys out on dates?”

“That sounds great,” Billy managed to pull himself a little bit so he could answer Steve’s question. “That’s, uh, yeah. Sounds great. M-maybe Friday?”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed. “Friday. Six.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

The two awkwardly stood there for a few moments, not looking each other in the eye. “I’m… Uh,” Billy jerked his thumb at the door. “I’m gonna go and sleep for a while… Today’s been fucking hectic.”

“You can sleep in here,” Steve blurted out. “I find it easier to sleep if people are beside me. We don't have to do anything – I don't know if I want to… Uh, just yet – but yeah. You can just. Um. Sleep in my bed again.”

Billy nodded, moving towards the bed slowly. He let the backpack drop onto the mattress and took out the Walkman. Tape number 45 was in it. He took it out, placed it carefully amongst the others, and picked out a different one. Once the headphones were firmly in place and he was comfortable on the bed, he pressed play.

“_Billy. I know by the time you find this I’ll be gone, but I need you to know I love you. So much.”_

He felt Steve lie on the bed beside him, but didn't move. Instead, he just closed his eyes and listened to his mother’s voice, the one he had missed so fucking much.

He fell asleep with a calm smile on his face.

His life was finally going okay.

Steve waited until the blonde was asleep before taking the headphones off of him. His fingers itched to put in number 46, to finally get the whole thing over and done with, to listen to the end.

Instead, he carefully put the backpack and Walkman on the floor and moved closer to Billy.

He pressed his lips against the blonde’s cheek – he stirred, rubbing his cheek against the red pillow – and wrapped his arms around him.

“I love you too,” He said, even though he was sure Billy was asleep. “And it’s not bullshit. I’m not bullshit.”

“No,” Billy mumbled, making Steve jump. “You’re not bullshit, Steve.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Its Kaiage here. I'm so so so sooooo sorry I haven't posted for ages. I went through another depressive episode and need to get my meds upped, ugh. Anyway. Thank you for reading Tapes!  
If I'm going to be honest, I don't like how this book ended. It was too quick. If I read it myself, written by somebody else, I probably would have rolled my eyes and exited. So if you stuck around, thank you!  
The thing is, I'm just too exhausted to rewrite these last few shitty chapters. I'm sorry this book ended so badly. Please forgive me?
> 
> Anyway, I have a couple other Harringrove stuff up if you guys wanted to check them out. Looking For Monsters is Billy's story, and Move, Party, Fuck Away The Pain, is Steve's, if you want to read em.  
My tumblr is xxlost-in-starsxx if you guys wanted to give me a follow. No pressure, lol.  
Bye!  
<3 <3 <3 xoxoxoxo


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